


Panacea

by Overthinkerwrites



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Backstory, Butcher of Torfan, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overthinkerwrites/pseuds/Overthinkerwrites
Summary: Nora Shepard's life was never easy and only a relentless drive to survive would help her escape the streets of the slums.





	1. Chapter 1

2164

 

Worthless. That’s what Ann always knew she was. It’s what the Reds told her she was; a Sand Dropping; children born from women that were high up on Red Sand. If they were lucky, they’d die in infancy. Most would either end up as duct rats and the survival rate of those were low enough as it was.

 

Here she was; ten years old, starving, and in rags that were held together with stitches and faith. She was perpetually cold to the bone in one of the few ducts that were large enough to hold her in a dilapidated building in the heart of the one of the worst cities to live in, especially if you were an orphan.

 

Ann crawled to the edge to see the same scene that looped to her already desensitized eyes. They were the sounds of people screaming in agony as they were beaten by gangs, corrupt police, or worse. Ann wasn’t stupid to think what was going on out there could never happen to her. It was only a matter of time. However, she’d fight it until she was dead. She curled herself into a ball as another current of warm air gave her a brief reprieve from the cold. It was a miracle the heating systems still worked.

 

Even in Old Los Angeles, winter was winter. Just because there wasn’t any snow didn’t mean you could freeze to death. If the constant turf wars, rape gangs, corrupt cops, and junkies of all persuasions didn’t kill you; the humidity and the carbon monoxide canopy would. The small group of other Sand Droppings she stayed with often had to huddle together at night in one of the safe houses to keep each other warm. However, every year, there would always be one or two of them that would go to sleep and never wake up.

 

Ann sighed and sat against the rusting steel plate as she wondered how long the heat was to last this time. It was a pattern she had learned. Some buildings would have their heat restored just long enough for it to get comfortable, then it would die again, which would prevent the myriad of squatters from taking up residence in the buildings to stay there.

 

It was a cursed blessing, if nothing else. It prevented girls like her from being caught by the aforementioned gangs that prowled the streets. She remembered seeing a pair of men in their twenties catch a duct rat as it tried to swipe a bit of food from them. She couldn’t bear to watch when they pulled out the needles, Hallex, and the Red Sand on the kid. She never did see that one again, but she could only hope that the girl they got was able to get out alive. If not, the she hoped it was quick. Their kind didn’t last long in the open.

 

Too soon, the heat died and that was Ann’s signal to leave. Pretty soon, the Fourteenth Street Bones would be descending on this building like a bunch of hungry vultures for anyone stupid enough to get caught. Unceremoniously, she landed on the floor, littered with garbage and made a mad dash to the exit. She would have to make sure the fewer people saw her, the better. It was difficult, since she was already taller than most girls her age. Lithe, sure, but that was due to the limited diet of partially eaten, partially decomposed, and stolen food she could barely subsist on. The Reds were infamously stingy with their stores and if you wanted to eat in the Reds, the fewer scruples you had the more you ate.

 

You also had to be bigger, stronger, and faster than the rest of the rabble. Sure, she was taller and was moderately fast, but there was always someone that could beat her. It was always the same thing. There would always be two kids that would either gang up on her or one would jump her, while the other would snatch the food she had found herself. It soon made the dark skinned orphan realize that even among the outcasts, she was an outcast.

 

She wondered if it was her dark brown skin and jet black hair. Her violet eyes, the only other distinguishing feature about her, were often marred by the filth she had to wade through. In order to make sure that her hair couldn’t be pulled, she would often have to resort to using discarded implements to make sure it stayed short. In a morbid sense of practicality, the blades she used to cut her hair would also save her life in the off chance one of the other gangs caught up with her. A Twelfth Street Blue had learned the hard way and was since renamed ‘Cyclops’.

 

That was one of the reasons why she stuck with the Tenth Street Reds. They were more ‘methodical’, and that was being generous. They claimed to be long term thinkers and it showed in unusual ways, as they made sure they could hold their own against the other gangs. However, like in any other gang, it was only a matter of whom you knew. She hated it. She hated them. However, she had no choice. It was either being their toady, or being tossed to the wolves. While they didn’t abuse her, they made it clear that loyalty to the Reds was first and foremost and the consequences of disloyalty.

 

It turned children into animals for their perverse amusement to see children fighting each other for scraps of food they had no doubt gotten via dubious means. Even then, there was no guarantee that they would even get the food unless one was a full-fledged member of the gang.

 

She then heard the sound of a struggle in the alleyway to her left. She knew better than to leave well enough alone, however, she felt compelled to sneak down to the edge and peak around to see the source of the commotion.

 

“Please, no,” a girl in a hood wheezed helplessly as she tried to retrieve a small worthless trinket from what appeared to be two boys, no older than she was. She also appeared to have extreme difficultly moving and it was not just from one of the boys holding his foot on her back. The shape of her body gave Ann the impression that she was no doubt one of the deformed kids you would see once in a while. They never lasted long. Ann couldn’t see much of her face, but it was clear that she could barely function on her own and it, no doubt, made her an easy target amongst the animals that littered the streets.

 

“No, freak! It’s ours now,” the taller of the two said as he kept the small piece of metal and pondered how much he’d get from the Reds after he turned it in to one of the leaders. The chances of any of the rare deformed kids holding anything of worth was between slim and none. If any of them ever survived, it was because everyone else thought them plagued and were often shunned and they would inevitably starve to death.

 

“Think we should take her with us? Maybe they’ll give us something for her. Put her in a freakshow or something,” the other boy said as he searched through the girl’s singular sack for any other valuables.

 

Ann found her breath coming in fast, but quiet enough that the two boys didn’t hear her. The sound of the girl’s sobs brought a snarl to her face as the urge to violence grew in leaps and bounds. While she wasn’t some kind of marine, she knew how to fight enough to beat someone within an inch of their life. Most ‘civilized’ people would have balked at the sight of a ten year old girl being capable of such a thing, but then again, they didn’t have to endure the hell she did.

 

Ann saw herself in the same position that poor girl was in. Quietly, she picked up a small, but solid piece of pipe from a nearby trashcan. She only had one chance at this, and if she failed, she’d no doubt be in a similar position as the other girl or worse.

 

Both boys’ backs were turned to her and they seemed to be either busy tormenting the deformed girl or fruitlessly searching her bag.

 

“Oh, hey!” the boy looting the girl’s things said, “food! I knew we picked right!” he said as he pulled out a candy bar and a small bag of rice, no doubt a gift from the Our Lady of Perpetual Vigilance, the only real neutral ground as far as the gangs were concerned. While most people in OLA held no real belief in providence, the fact that this small group of volunteers kept it going was proof enough that there was something out there.

 

Ann knew she had to move now and the instant when both boys were enraptured with the sight of food, she struck. The boy who had his foot on the girl tumbled over when the pipe hit the back of his head and before the smaller boy could gasp, she turned on him and swung once more. He had his arm up to soften the blow somewhat, but bruises he would not doubt keep from this experience would remind him, provided he lived long enough.

 

Again and again, Ann swung the pipe and hit the boy. He screamed in pain and called for help, but no one would hear. That was the harsh reality of kids like them. With each collision, the snarl on Ann’s face grew more and more pronounced as all the anger she had felt bubbled up in a geyser of violence.

 

“You’re hurting him!” Ann heard the girl say between sobs. Incredulous, she stopped beating the boy, whirled on the girl she had just saved, and gaped.

 

“Wh… what?!” Ann said as she ignored the boy crawling away from the scene to leave his ‘buddy’ at Ann’s mercy. If you got caught unaware, you paid for it, more often than not, with your life. No one would ever come back for you. It was a fact everyone on the streets were aware of.

 

The deformed girl looked up to her, the visible part of her face red with tears and swollen, “you were hitting him.”

 

Ann felt the anger rise again as she asked with a frown, “So?”

 

The smaller girl wheezed loudly as her breath came back, “you didn’t need to do that.” The way she said it told Ann that the girl had difficulties breathing and it was normal for her. When she tried to stand up, it looked like it would take a lot of time and more effort than it would for a normal person.

 

Ann couldn’t put her finger on it, but seeing the poor girl struggle to even stand made the rage she felt a moment before vanish. She let go of the pipe and reached down to help her stand up and retrieve her scant belongings.

 

“We should get him out of here,” she croaked, in regard to the unconscious boy at their feet. Her statement brought back the shock in Ann’s face.

 

“What? After what he did to you?” The law of the city was the law of the jungle. There was no law. Only survival.

 

The girl only looked to her with her good eye and said weakly, “he was hungry. Like we are.”

 

Ann didn’t know why, but the way she said it and the gaze the girl had with her good eye seemed to expose something inside that she didn’t know existed. She looked down, as though she felt ashamed of what she had done. She began to sniff and felt her lip quiver a bit.

 

What Ann didn’t expect was the crippled girl reached out and embraced her waist with an arm as lean and malnourished as her own. That aside, she seemed lively enough to brace both of them.

 

Ann looked down to her new companion, who smiled, despite the difficulty with the many tumors on her face, and said hoarsely, “I’m Nora Shepard. Pleased to meet you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Another day, another scuffle between the Reds and the Bones. It ranged from between melees comprised of teenagers swinging makeshift cudgels to grown adults using firearms. Thankfully, Ann and Nora knew the area well enough to know when and when not to move. It would only take being caught by any number of the other gangs to get them and they’d wish they were rotting with the other dead bodies that piled up whenever turf wars started.

 

Considering how often violence would flare up between gangs, it was a miracle Nora had been able to survive as long as she had.

 

Nora, like Ann, was a sand dropping. She couldn’t remember many details about her parents or her life before she became aware. All she knew was that she was alone and was told she was found in a dumpster. People often screamed in horror at her appearance and ran away, afraid that they’d get the same disease that turned her into her current state.

 

It was a miracle that she had been able to survive as long as she had, especially for the fact that she was a cripple. Nora humorously noted that her survival was dependent on the rumors and scuttlebutt that went around about her. Some said she was a bad omen made flesh. Others said she was in the process of becoming a zombie. Even more thought she was a plague carrier. No matter what the tale, they kept their distance. Nora had been able to use this to her advantage in order to survive.

 

However, ever since they met, there was something about Nora that piqued Ann’s interest. She was kind of her own choice. She had no reason to be nice. The streets had no room for that. Only survival. Yet, she always kept her wits about her and was able to live, despite her crippling disability.

 

Between moments of scurrying through the streets, Ann would often see a few of the tumors that riddled the left side of Nora’s face. She always wore a hood to keep the hideous deformations out of sight so she could interact with others.

 

Unlike most of the children on the streets, Nora had learned how to read from the volunteers at Our Lady of Perpetual Vigil. She had read everything she could for her age and quickly learned to read above her own level. As if to stand in contrast to her deformed body, her mind was as sharp and fit as someone almost twice her age. Her intellect had enabled her to survive.

 

Waiting for a break in the fighting between the Reds and the Bones, Ann turned to Nora and whispered, “I can carry you on my back. We can make it to the other building faster.”

 

Nora smiled weakly and whispered back and indicated the cane she used to move, “I can make it.”

 

Ann paused. She knew that she wanted to take care and protect the girl who had only a month ago, become her best friend. However, Nora Shepard had surprised her many times when she had found means to help them survive and prosper. Well, as prosper as much as a pair of ten and a half year old girls could on the streets.

 

“Ok,” she said as she turned back to the scene of the fight. They were just a few more blocks away from the church and Ann was more than aware at how easily something could go wrong, even as close to it as they were.

 

“Ready?” Ann said as she took another peak past the wall to see the melee between several larger teenagers from the opposing gangs.

 

“Yeah,” Nora whispered back as she hobbled right behind her protector.

 

To their good fortune, the fighting had taken both groups further and further in the other direction. Within seconds, the Bones had the Reds in this area on the run. Since they’d be too busy trying to hunt the enemy combatants down, it would allow them to move through the many dilapidated buildings and reach the church relatively undisturbed.

 

“Now!” she whispered loudly as she made a mad dash across the street to the building on the other side. Ann pinned herself to the wall in mortal fear as she looked to see Nora wobble as quickly as she could and reach the middle of the road before a misstep caused her to fall over and drop her bag.

 

Nora Shepard’s condition couldn’t be cured. She was physically weak and her difficulties in doing even the most basic of tasks often tired her to the point of exhaustion. Even if there was a treatment, she would never be able to afford it. She squeaked as quietly as she could to hide the amount of pain she was in when her deformed side collided with the pavement.

 

The taller girl gasped and against her better judgment and everything she had learned in her short life to just leave Nora to die, she ran back out, hefted the disabled girl to her feet, grabbed the bag and dragged her into the building they had hoped to use as cover.

 

With them out of sight, they quickly moved into the shadows of the dilapidated buildings’ empty rooms so they could catch their breath. With luck, they could continue their journey and make it to their destination within the hour.

 

Nora’s hoarse voice was louder than Ann’s gasping as the former coughed violently. After a moment, her breathing settled down and she held her bad arm with her good hand to try and stem the pain.

 

“I’m so sorry, Ann,” Nora whimpered between haggard breaths. They both knew that Ann could do a lot better by herself, being stronger than her size indicated. She had put them both in danger and they knew it because Nora’s deformities made her an easy target.

 

“Stop it,” Ann said quietly. She would not let the smaller girl do this to herself. Nora was a kind girl. She was kind and meek to a fault. While Ann didn’t possess Nora’s intellect, she was not stupid. She provided the much needed caution they both needed to survive.

 

Without thinking, she reached her arms around Nora’s slender shoulders and held her tight. Nora was a friend that Ann would never believe she would ever have. She was not going to lose her, if she could help it.

 

Ann looked up and held her breath. The sounds of the fight had died down and she quickly looked around. No one had seen them, but she couldn’t be too careful. She let go of Nora, stepped up, leaned against the wall, and inched to the edge to check if anyone else was with them in the building. She creeped around the edge and noticed nothing looked like it had been disturbed. She turned back to Nora and assisted the disabled girl to her feet.

 

They slowly got up and padded through the darkened halls. The cluttered chips and rubble crunched underneath their worn out shoes as they saw the entrance to the next block. It wouldn’t be too much longer before they would reach the only area in the city that was considered safe.

 

From one of the abandoned rooms, a shadow leaped out and tackled Ann against the opposing wall. Startled, Nora fell backward and struggled to get us as she saw a boy, no older than Ann, grope through Ann’s clothes for anything he could find as she was distracted.

 

However, he didn’t last long as Ann used the leverage of the wall to put her foot against his stomach and force him back into the dimly lit room from whence he appeared. Enraged, Ann got to her feet and dove back at the boy, who was roughly her size, but she was still larger than he was. The boy, however, would not be easily deterred as he scraped his nails across Ann’s face as she tried to wrap her hands around his neck.

 

Both children snarled like animals as they were constantly in a quickly changing tug of war for dominance. Trash and debris was tossed in every which direction when they tumbled around like a storm that had just been unleashed in a cataclysm of violence fueled by desperation. When the boy bit her wrist, she thrust her knee into his stomach. When he grabbed her hair, she yanked his thumb backward.

 

Nora struggled to get to her feet as the sound of the struggle only seemed to grow louder and knew that if it kept up, the victor of scuffle would find them. They had to go, now!

 

When it seemed as though the boy’s thumb had pressed the tip against Ann’s esophagus, they both had rolled to the far side of the room, where Ann’s hand had caught a hold of a piece of metal pipe. It was long enough for her that she’d be able to use it, as it seemed to be the only weapon she could use.

 

She locked eyes with the boy’s and knew that only one of them was going to leave alive. He, like herself, was only a few steps away from feral after living with starvation as a constant companion. His short blond hair was dirty and matted, his clothes were ragged and in shreds, and his skin was marred by dried blood that he had no doubt received from other scuffles.

 

When the other boy had finally got his other hand around her throat, she aimed the other end of the pipe to his face and jammed it against his temple as hard as she could. The amount of force was strong enough to cause the boy to loosen his grip and scream in pain as Ann once again kicked him off of her. Aware that she wouldn’t have another she quickly closed the distance between them and struck the back of his head before he had a chance to recover.

 

With a bestial grunt, Ann continued to swing the pipe against him, all reason lost for the adrenaline that coursed through her veins. His repeated cry of ‘Mama!’, as if it were his one plea for help, was ignored.

 

“Ann! No! ANN!” Nora cried as loudly as she could, but she was blatantly ignored as Ann continued to swing.

 

It had taken another half dozen swings of the pipe before Ann realized that the boy wasn’t moving anymore. She then looked at the pipe and noticed the blood. She looked down in horror at what had happened. It was a boy. No older than she was. He was the same as she was. Desperate. Starving. Destitute.

 

He was dead.

 

Her hands started to quiver as she let go of the pipe when Nora threw her arm around Nora’s waist.

 

“Come on! Let’s go,” Nora said as she drug Ann as quickly as her deformed body could.

 

For the rest of the journey to the church, Ann was shocked into silence.

 

*

 

When they finally made it to the church, Ann couldn’t take it anymore. When at last she had a moment to breathe, she used it to cry.

 

She held her hands against her face as she fell to her knees and sobbed loudly in the bathroom Nora and Ann would use to clean themselves up.

 

Nora knelt down beside her with great difficulty and hugged her again.

 

It was no secret among the duct rats and the other abandoned kids that Ann was hated. She hated them all back. It was simple. It was easy. It was how she survived.

 

So, why was she feeling like the worst person in the whole world? Why was she crying because she had to survive? It wasn’t her fault! She couldn’t find an answer as she heard Nora weeping into her shoulder.

 

For the first time, Ann realized. Nora was the first person she actually cared for. And that was before Nora cared for her in kind. They had been friends for such a short time, but they came to rely on each other as siblings.

 

Nora never hated anyone. She never wanted to hurt anyone. Nora was different. Ann could tell. That kind of different you’d do everything you could to keep.

 

And Ann had hurt Nora. By doing that horrible, horrible thing, she had hurt Nora.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Ann sobbed as she held Nora tightly with both of her arms. For the moment, they were safe, but it didn’t make the ache Ann felt any better.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Hello, father,” Nora said as she and Ann entered the main hall where Father Francis Christopher, along with several other volunteers assisted in what few ways they could.

  


The older, bespectacled man smiled and replied, “Nora. It’s good to see you again.” His gaze turned to Ann. “Oh, friend of yours?”

  


Nora nodded. “This is Ann. She and I met a while ago.”

  


Ann looked up to the Father Christopher, despite his advancing years, seemed far more active than his age suggested. Ann, however, looked away and instinctively walked behind Nora. She didn’t know whom this person was. The only person she could talk to was Nora. And that’s how it was going to be.

  


“Your friend alright?” he asked with genuine concern.

  


“She was alone a lot. She only speaks to me,” she said with a shrug, but smiled when Ann took her good hand from behind and held to it fast.

  


He nodded his head in understanding. “A lot of children from around here are like that. That’s very kind of you to look after her.”

  


Ann frowned. She was the one that was taking care of Nora. It made Ann feel good that she was finally doing something good for someone that actually cared for her.

  


Her anger was kindled when he asked her kindly, “Are you taking good care of Nora?”

  


She paused for a moment before she nodded and whispered, “Nora’s my friend.”

  


The answer seemed to satisfy him as he went back to the desk with some of the usual handouts that were given to children on the streets. When he returned with a pair of bags for their lunch he handed them both to both girls and said, “you two get cleaned up and then have this. We were able to get some fresh fruits from the market uptown.”

  


“Thank you, Father Christopher,” Nora said happily as she slowly took her bag with her good hand.

  


Ann, on the other hand, accepted the bag and looked to it in shock. No one had ever given her anything before. It felt nice. She looked to the bag and back to him and whispered, “Thank you.”

  


He nodded again, the warm smile on his face never diminishing as the two girls went to the bathroom to clean up with a few other children that were there.

  


Our Lady of Perpetual Vigilance was a small, but sturdy church that had been built half a century before. Its ownership had changed repeatedly when the surrounding areas became slums and it eventually because a rescue for abandoned children, battered girls, lost boys, and more. It was run entirely by volunteers who would, at the risk of their own wellbeing, come once a week to help in what small ways they could.

  


Francis Christopher was once a wealthy businessman who felt the money that he had spent most of his life accumulating had become more troublesome than it was worth. While his fortune was substantial, he felt empty. His friends had called him crazy when he had sold off his trading business with the newer colonies that were being established after the end of the First Contact War and went into volunteer work.

  


He told them that while he knew doing this held risks, helping people had become a greater reward than all the money he had fought tooth and nail for. While he still had a steady flow of income, seeing the faces of children like Ann and Nora granted another chance made it all worth it.

  


He was also part of a community adoption program in hopes of seeing the lost children of Old Los Angeles put into worthy homes of families that would show them the love they were bereft of. Unfortunately, the sheer amount of bureaucracy he had to deal with in order to give these poor children homes made the process sluggish and unwieldy. Not to mention that there had been a few children who were killed in gang fights before they were scheduled to be sent to these worthy homes.

  


The hardest thing for him to ever say was Nora had been screened and cleared for adoption on more than one occasion. However, no one ever chose her. He had been so brazen as to ask a few people why when Nora, despite her youth, was as mature as a child her age could be. They would never answer him straight, but he knew better. It was because of her Proteus Syndrome. The various tumors that had rendered her a cripple had made her an unwanted subject. Not to mention that extensive treatment and surgery she would need if she wanted any hope of surviving in society would be too much for even him to intervene. He bowed his head and prayed that the Lord would watch over her, because he knew that he wouldn’t always be able to the way he had.

  


He took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes to get rid of the exhaustion in them as he saw Ann and Nora return, a bit cleaner than when they had left. Their supplies of clothes for these children had always been strained, but at least they’d have a pair of shoes and socks to tide them over until their next shipment. Heaven knew how many blisters their feet had from a life of constant running.

  


He looked at the clock on the wall and back to the children coming back with empty sacks but full stomachs. For now, anyway.

  


“So, do you two want to join in with the other kids in the class today?” he asked.

  


Ann’s eyes went to Nora in confusion. The latter nodded eagerly, then grabbed Ann’s wrist and pulled her as much as she could to one of the rooms where half a dozen other children worked with simple arithmetic and coloring books, led by another volunteer.

  


When Ann looked to the book in front of her, she had no idea what to make of it. She wasn’t even sure what a book was as Nora eagerly took the crayons and filled in the pictures of the horses with vibrant colors. Things like these were a luxury to kids like her and Nora.

  


Ann took a seat beside Nora, but her look of perpetual confusion would not leave. She looked to the book and then to the box of crayons that Nora had opened. She looked to her friend to see her carefully coloring the horse a lighter shade of purple, while its mane was a much darker shade. She looked back to her own book and still found it difficult to comprehend what exactly it was Nora was doing.

  


“Hello, dear. Need help?” the older woman with graying hair, but the same kind smile that Father Christopher had asked as she knelt beside the bemused Ann. She looked back to Nora for help. While Nora knew these people, Ann did not. She had no reason to trust them, but Ann did. She froze and her eyes began to widen as though she were ready to panic.

  


Nora saw this and smiled at her friend. She nodded at Nora, who then turned back to the elderly lady and nodded herself.

  


Happy to see Nora’s good influence on another child, the volunteer took a seat beside Ann and slowly began to explain what the coloring book was. Ann listened as much as she could as the volunteer started to color in one of the fruits on the page to give an example. A lot of the words she used went right through her head, however, the example in front of her gave her enough of an idea as to what she was to do.

  


Carefully, she took the yellow crayon in her fist and slowly hovered the tip over the colorless drawing of the banana. She then placed it against the paper and slowly started to rub it back and forth across it. It was an unfamiliar sensation to Ann as she slowly, but eventually filled the picture of the fruit as both Nora and the volunteer looked on.

  


When Ann was done, she looked to Nora, then back at the messy attempt of drawing within the lines of the picture. ‘Did I do it right?’ Ann asked with her eyes. Her friend smiled and then used her good arm to reach over and hug Ann. She assumed she did well as she happily hugged back her friend, much to the delight of the volunteer.

  


The older woman stood and gave both girls a warm smile. To her, and the rest of the volunteers, Nora Shepard was the cherub of the slums. She always seemed to find children that were the most desperate and bring them here. And more often than not, the children she had brought often were able to find homes.

  


Except Nora herself.

  


It was a damn shame, the woman thought as both girls went back to coloring more of the pictures.

  


*

  


“Is there nothing we can do?” the older woman says to Francis as they watch the two girls leave the church for the night to find some dingy place to sleep.

  


He shakes his head. “I keep putting up for an appeal for Nora’s case, but the Alliance Parliament won’t allow her. They say she’s ‘too much of a liability’.”

  


“That’s a bunch of bullshit and you know it, Francis!” she swears angrily. “Those damn insurance companies just don’t want to fit the bill for her treatments. She can still get-” she catches herself and looks down despondently. “Sorry.”

  


He pats her shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t be. I’ve been putting small amounts of money on the side for a treatment for the girl. It’ll take a while, but hopefully, she and her friend will have found a home by then. Once that happens, she can start treatment and perhaps, be able to live a normal life.”

  


“And her friend?” she asks, wondering of the silent partner Nora had brought in with her.

  


“With luck, she’ll go with Nora. The poor child seems to be lost without her. Wouldn’t surprise me if Nora was the first friend she ever had,” he says as he takes his glasses off and takes a handkerchief to clean them of residue.

  


She folds her arms over each other. “I hear rumors about that girl. She seems to be one of the kinds that Nora was able to bring in, in time. Would have gone feral hadn’t it not been for Nora.”

  


He nods his head and puts his glasses back on. “Miracles never cease to happen. Even if we’re not always aware of it.”

  


*

  


Ann saw herself alone. She was in the city, but it was completely deserted. There was nothing to find. Nothing to see. No one.

  


Then, she heard something. She walked to the edge of a building to peek past the entrance and saw shadows moving. Curious, she tried to move and catch up, however, her stomach growled loudly. She was so hungry.

  


She fell to her knees and held her stomach as it groaned in pain. She wanted to stand, but her hunger had taken her strength. The shadows she tried to follow returned again, but this time, they were accompanied by a the sound of something large. Something heavy. Something hungry.

  


She looked up to see herself. However, it wasn’t herself. The other she was grown. However, to a horrid sight.

  


She was heavily scarred, draped in red colored skins, and bleeding from many cuts. Her breath was hot, her teeth were sharp, and she reeked of blood.

  


The horrifying sight was offset by her eyes. They were alive. Vibrant. Warm. And dangerous. She pushed herself to her feet to run away, but the taller Ann reached out and grabbed her ankle. The blood covered version of herself opened her maw wide, as if to consume her.

  


And it did. Piece by piece, she was eaten.

  


Ann screamed and scrambled from the makeshift bed she and Nora had shared that evening. She tumbled onto the ground and crawled to the corner.

  


A startled Nora looked to her friend and asked, “nightmare again?”

  


Sobbing, Ann nodded and held her legs with her arms again as Nora slowly padded to her and hugged her again, as though it were the only thing that could keep the demons away.

  



	4. Chapter 4

**2167**

  


It had been three years since Ann had met Nora.

  


Ann wasn’t a believer of any kind of mover of fates, but it was hard to deny that meeting the crippled girl was the best thing that ever happened to her. Their partnership had enabled them to not only survive in the slums, but thrive.

  


At thirteen years old, Ann had grown taller and stronger than most her age. At first, she was quite lanky, but as the years wore on, she towered over anyone that would dare intimidate her or Nora. Ann’s penchant for survival had made her lean and toned. While she was still in the middle of her growth spurt, she was already five feet tall. A few of the volunteers at Our Lady of Perpetual Vigilance noted that she had the potential to be a giant.

  


The thought appealed to Ann quite a bit. She was often pushed around by the other street rats and the through of doing the same to them filled her with cruel glee. That is, until she remembered Nora. While her friend’s condition hadn’t changed any for the better, Nora was able to become more comfortable with herself and was able to run under her own power instead of staggering everywhere.

  


Nora was the brains and Ann was the brawn. Whenever there was another turf battle, they’d be there in the shadows waiting for the fighting to stop so they could scavenge what they could. They had been able to do better together than what neither one of them could do by themselves. And even then, their personalities and strengths would, at times, overlap.

  


Nora was a meticulous planner. She was always very quiet and observant. She paid attention to everything about someone. She had to. That was how she had been able to survive as long as she had. She could tell Ann preferred to use her left hand to lead in when she fought someone, how she would easily communicate her intentions by moving her right foot first. Whenever a few of the other street rats wanted to surround her, she’d inform Nora to make sure all of them were in front of her.

  


She also could read people. She could tell when someone they had encountered was being sincere or not. She knew whom to leave alone and who to fight. While Ann called her kind, Nora wasn’t stupid and wouldn’t simply allow others to walk over them both, just because she believed in the Golden Rule.

  


She also knew which places were safest and what places they could use to avoid the other gangs and the police. There were also specific places in the slums that kids like her and Ann could use to hide out from time to time, simply because they were either in another gang’s territory or no one would have figured they’d be there.

  


It was this line of thinking that had led them to another derelict building which they called home for now. However destitute and dilapidated as it was.

  


Ann frowned as she walked passed through the other residents of the building she and Nora found themselves in. Ann was left alone for one reason; she was the only person that wasn’t doped up on Red Sand to the point where it was a chore to stand. It came with the territory, being as close to a Lab as they were.

  


She didn’t like working for the Reds. Yet, here she was, getting the basic materials needed to create Red Sand to sell and distribute.

  


Many thought the discovery of element zero had been the salvation of humanity. It could power FTL drives, power entire cities at a fraction of the cost of other methods, and it was far easier to reuse. Solidified chips from eezo containers are collected, along with the used up remains of the actual element, to modify the element for another purpose.

  


Eezo chips refined with denser materials could be used in munitions and work as frags in grenades, flak, and precision ammunition.

  


With lighter elements, it can be used for power cells. Primarily used for civil services such as electricity, powering generators, and more.

  


With all blessings, there’s also a curse.

  


Element Zero could also be distilled and infused into powder to create one of the largest banes humanity had ever known; Red Sand. The process, while crude, often results in very potent stashes of the material that junkies would kill each other to have. The potency of the sand would also determine how much of a high one got. The more volatile the mineral, the stronger the high.

  


Like with crack cocaine, it was often sniffed in rows on a smooth surface, but not before the user had to put a bit of their blood into the sand itself to ‘activate’ it. Fresh and warm blood still had the active chemicals to ‘turn it on’ and prepare it for consumption, but more often than not, the means used to draw the blood were less than sanitary.

  


Ann and Nora had been the unknowing witnesses to seeing junkies overdose on the stuff after their first sniff. It wasn’t pretty. While the rumor was that a person’s biotic potential could be increased by sniffing the stuff, its primary use was the same as any other run of the mill illegal drug. Yet, it would often bring about psychotic episodes in the addicted to the point where they couldn’t tell the difference between their imaginations and reality.

  


The mixer, an aging, ragged haired, and weathered old man looked to Ann as she walked up to him and handed over a bag of materials that would be used for the next batch.

  


He opened the bag, noted the white powder inside. He tapped the tip of his index finger with his tongue, and tasted it. His face was neutral as he looked to her. “Where’d you get this?”

  


Ann shrugged her shoulders casually. “Found it in a trash can. Almost missed it. Probably belonged to one of the Blues.”

  


“Hmm,” he mumbled quietly as he looked back to the bag, closed it and put it on the counter next to the concoction implements he was in the middle of using. He then pulled out a credit chit from his pocket. She pulled hers out and after a few taps on the surface of chit, transferred the agreed number of credits to hers.

  


The one she carried wasn’t a large chit, but it was sufficient for hers and Nora’s needs. On a good day, she would have to use her backup, which had a larger storage capacity than the one she used primarily. It was also hidden deeper within her clothes so the chances of it being pickpocketed were slight.

  


“Thanks,” she said calmly.

  


“Hmm,” he said again and went back to his work as if Ann never appeared. She was grateful this one never seemed to care about who delivered what to him. All that mattered was getting his product completed and out the door. She’d be back in a few days to hand them off to one of the dealers in the Reds on the other side of their territory.

  


Another mixer thought that he was entitled to more than that when she had delivered the materials for him. As tempted as she was to use his own tools to cut him up good, she felt it better just to let him starve or get the materials himself. Soon enough, she had found her current client and the old one was run out of the slums.

  


Despite being able to eat from this, it ate away at Ann from the inside. Nora was born as a result of the stuff that was being produced in this building and here she was, assisting in making more of the stuff that would likely create more Sand Droppings.

  


If Nora disapproved of what she was doing, she wasn’t saying anything. It sacred her. Nora was always forthcoming and honest in how she felt, but for her to forbear on anything was troubling.

  


When she reached the office where she and Nora had been using as a room, she quietly closed and locked the door behind her. Never mind the fact the window had been shattered long ago, but it was still better than nothing.

  


In the corner, Nora slept soundly on the pile of discarded articles ranging from clothes to papers. They had to make due and they would. She slowly knelt down and whispered, “Hey, Nora. Wake up.”

  


Nora’s only working eye fluttered and she turned to her friend and smiled. “Hey,” she croaked.

 

“Sleep well?” Ann asked as she took a seat beside her friend.

  


“Mmhmm,” Nora nodded. With Ann’s help, she sat against the wall and allowed her friend a seat where she had been sleeping a moment before.

  


“I got credits. We can get something real to eat for now.”

  


“How much?”

  


“Seventy-five credits,” Ann said proudly. With that much, they’d be able to last for another week until the church could start another function. It was also there they’d get news from some of the volunteers. Kids would be told that they were to be adopted into families that Father Christopher and the other volunteers had found for them.

  


Nora nodded. “That’s good.” However, Ann could tell she was wondering how she got the money.

  


Before she could ask, Ann spoke up, “I found some smack in a garbage can. I sold it to the guy here. It means we can eat.”

  


From underneath her hood, Ann could tell Nora didn’t like the means how she got the money. Places like the lab they were forced to stay in only made things worse for people and would make more children like Nora. However, she didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t and it bothered Ann.

  


“Nora, please. I don’t know what we could’ve done.” Ann said.

  


Nora frowned a bit and shook her head. While she could understand the reasons why, it didn’t make it any better.

  


Already, Ann felt the guilt surge in her gut and suddenly felt the credit chit in her pocket weigh far more than it used to.

  


“I’m sorry, Nora,” Ann whispered.

  


“It’s not me you should be saying sorry to,” Nora replied quietly.

  


Ann would have replied, when all of a sudden, the sound of sirens blared from outside the building.

  


It was a raid!

  


Quickly, she got to her feet, hefted Nora to her own, and they sped towards the door. Every now and then, the law would come down and come down hard on Red Sand labs and anyone caught within the vicinity of it would find themselves in jail. Some kids would be caught and never seen again. No one knew what happened to them and Ann was not eager to find out. Especially due to the fact she had been a primary supplier for the materials needed to make the Red Sand.

  


“Wait!” Nora said and went to the window. It was then Ann caught on. If they tried using the door, the police would catch them easily. However, the window led to a patio that had stairs to the second floor and a pathway to the neighboring building. They threw their meager possessions through the window and moved as fast as they could as the sounds of gunfire and shouting echoed through the building.

  


Up the stairs they ran as the sound of police in heavy gear kicked open the door of the office they had vacated only a few moments before.

  


One her back, Ann carried Nora as fast as her longer legs could carry her. Down the stair she dashed and when they hit the ground floor, made a mad dash towards the next building further away. If they were fortunate, they’d be able to wait until the raid was done before Ann could go back and scavenge for any leftovers before the gangs closed in.

  


However, for now, they only they could do was hide, keep quiet, and wait.

  


This was their life. They hated it and they wanted out. They weren’t sure if they would ever get out, but they’d try and that was all they could do.


	5. Chapter 5

It was best to describe Ann and Nora as being joined at the hip. Wherever one went, the other usually wasn’t far behind. Whenever they were separated, they were vulnerable. Such was the case when Ann found herself separated from Nora. It had only been one time and now, Ann was almost driven to a panic as she double backed through the paths she took and the ones Nora could have gone.

  


Hopping down a fire escape, Ann whirled around the edge and dashed towards the alleyway. She skid to a halt and looked in the other three directions to find nothing there. The sound of wind howling in her ear, which also whipped her growing hair in her face to her consternation, distracted her from finding her friend.

  


She heard Nora’s voice from one of the alleys, partially muffled by her captors no doubt.

  


With bared teeth and a snarl, she tightened her grip on the pipe she often carried with her to beat anyone into submission. Nora’s influence had curbed her violent streak somewhat. However, if anyone dared to bring Nora to harm, all bets were off.

  


She was about to speed past the corner of the road where she heard Nora when she skid to a halt and pressed her back against the wall. She poked her face past the edge of the wall to see Nora being carried by two boys. Ann had a feeling she’d seen these two boys before. However, now was not the time for reminiscing, she had to think of a means to get Nora away from them.

  


When she was sure they weren’t looking back to see if they were being followed, Ann quickly hid behind anything that could offer her cover. Garbage cans, dumpters, abandoned palettes, and more allowed her to catch up to the boys that were having difficulty trying to abduct the struggling Nora.

  


“Let me go!” Nora said as she tried to unlock her wrists from the boy whose shoulder she was slung over. Despite her best efforts, the two boys had caught and overpowered her easily.

  


“Shut up, bitch,” the other boy snarled before he struck her in the bad side of her head. Nora cried out as pain surged through her crippled body. She did everything she could not to weep, but the position she was in, plus the blow, made it too much to bear.

  


No sooner had his hand left her face, he too cried out in pain when a pipe collided with the side of his head. He tumbled to the ground and before the other boy could make a run for it, he felt a stabbing pain in the small of his back as Ann rammed the tip of her pipe as hard as she could.

  


Immediately, Nora tumbled down and despite the agony her body was in, had the presence of mind to roll up against the building as Ann dispatched the other boy.

  


With an animalistic snarl, Ann pressed her advantage and almost felt her pipe bend as she swung it at her opponent’s arm. When he was on the ground again, she rose her pipe to hit him again, when his cohort tackled her from behind.

  


Even with the element of surprise, Ann quickly overpowered the second boy and kicked him off her and onto his friend, who was struggling to stand up.

  


With a roar, Ann swung the pipe as hard as she could on one of the boys’ back. When she heard something crack, she knew she had won. She then kicked him out of the way as his friend tried to crawl away.

  


Her breath roared in her ears. Sweat poured down her temple. The adrenaline surged through her veins. Her teeth bared as if she were ready to bite into his flesh and tear it off his bones.

  


“You hurt her,” Ann growled as she towered over the other boy. It was then she remembered whom these boys were. They were the same guys that had tried to sell Nora when they had first met. Her grip on the pipe grew tighter.

  


The instant the boy tried to protest; her foot swung out and caught him in the jaw. He tried to cry out in pain, but his mouth was too sore to open it.

  


“Shut up, you shit eating little puke!” Ann barked as she kicked him in the side. Several more times she kicked him and when she was ready for the main event, put him on his back and stomped her foot on his chest.

  


With a cruel grin, she pointed the tip of the pipe at his tear stained face. “I’m gonna love this.”

  


She raised her pipe again to deliver the first of what would have been many blows, had another hand grabbed her wrist. Ann whirled around, ready to strike when she saw Nora’s own face, her eyes pleading with Ann’s not to do what she was going to do.

  


“Ann, please! Don’t!” her friend begged. She sniffed as the sweat and mucus fell down her face, fear and desperation covered her features.

  


Her visage turned into one of disgust and incredulity. Not just because the exact same thing happened three years ago, but Nora was willing to let these same guys attempt to do horrible things to them, again!

  


“Damn it, Nora! Why?!” she said as she found herself screaming at the only one who treated her like a person.

  


Not at all afraid of her wrath, Nora said as hard as her deformed lungs could, “because you’re not an animal! You’re better than this!”

  


Ann drew up to Nora and stared her down angrily, “Then what the hell am I?”

  


Tears started to stream from Nora’s good eye when she croaked, “you’re my friend… aren’t you?”

  


Ann’s eyes grew wide in horror. It was as if she had, in the heat of the moment, completely forgotten everything Nora had meant to her. In shame, her anger was deflated and she looked down to the boy as he scurried away to get his friend and run away.

  


“I’m sorry, Nora,” she wheezed as the adrenaline wore off. Ann had lost count of how many times she had apologized to her friend over the past three years. And, to her shame, wondered how many more times she would have to say sorry.

  


Once again, there was no recrimination from her friend as she wrapped her arm around Ann’s waist and said, “you already said that last week. Let’s try and find a way where you don’t have to apologize anymore.”

  


Ann nodded. Nora’s example was one that was difficult to emulate, if not impossible, for someone as foul tempered as herself.

  


She looked down to see that one of the boys had dropped something. She bent down and picked up what appeared to be a small plastic bag. Inside, there was a red powder. Already Ann knew it was it was.   
  
A dose of Red Sand. The boys she had beaten were Dusters. More likely than not in the employ of one of the other gangs, if not the Reds, so they could get their fix.

  


That wasn’t good. The sheer desperation people went through to get Red Sand for whatever reason worried Ann greatly. That would mean they’d try to kidnap Nora again if they ever recovered. A part of her reasoned that she should have killed them when she had the chance. If only Nora wasn’t there.

  


Immediately, she crushed the thought violently. Nora was the most important person in the world to her and despite her many faults, did everything she could to take care of the girl that had become her friend.

  


However, things at this rate couldn’t continue much longer. Ann couldn’t stay as she was.

  


“Say, Nora,” she said, her gaze not leaving the Red Sand packet.

  


“Hmm?”

  


“Can I promise you something?”

  


“What?”

  


“I know I’m not very smart. I get angry easy. And I make mistakes. But, I want to do something for you,” she said with trepidation.

  


Nora smiled a bit and asked, “sure, what?”

  


“I’ll get us out of here, Nora. I promise. We can get out of this place and start over. We’ll find you a doctor that can help you and I can get a job. We can have better than this. And I won’t hurt anyone anymore.” She turned from the Red Sand to Nora, hoping that she would hear and see the earnestness in her expression and eyes.

  


Nora smiled more and then nodded. “If you keep that promise, Ann, then I won’t have anything to worry about.”

  


Ann’s eyes widened when she added, “you’ll still have to think more than I do, Nora.” She looked down, remembering all the problems her temper caused. “I’m kinda stupid.”

  


Nora then frowned. “Stop that, Ann. You’re not stupid. You never were stupid.”

  


It was one of the few times and reasons why Nora had to remind Ann as to why they were friends in the first place. They needed each other at their best. And if that wasn’t the case, then they were done for.

  


“Ok.” Ann said quietly.

  


“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  


She nodded and followed Nora back to their current hide out, where they would have to pack up and move as soon as they could. Once someone found your safe spot, it was no longer safe. It was as simple as that.

 

Walking through one of the more populated areas of the Red’s turf, Ann and Nora noticed a gathering of people around what appeared to be a television program.

  


Curious, they both walked slowly to the edge of the gathering where the sound was loud enough for them to hear. The clean shaven and well-dressed newscaster began to speak as a picture of an alien appeared behind him.

  


“Good evening. I’m Jake Fleming and you’re watching Global News Network. Today marks the Ten Year Anniversary of the First Contact War. The event where humanity realized that they were not alone in the galaxy.”

  


Both girls looked to each other in surprise as the newscaster continued.

  


“It all started back in 2148 when the European Space Agency group, Magellan, discovered a cache of alien technology on Mars. Since then, mankind has made enormous strides in its technology, even so far as discovering the interstellar transportation system known only as the Mass Relays. While there was no concrete proof, most believe they were created by the Protheans, the same race who left the cache of technology on Mars for Magellan to discover.”

  


“As for what the Protheans are; no one seems to know. All galactic records of them were left in the form of ruins that have been scattered in several systems. Many of those systems have been barred by the Galactic Council due to them belonging in the territory of the Terminus Systems or of the Rogue State of the Batarian Hagemony.”

  


“Batarians?” Ann asked quietly, not entirely sure what the Galactic Council or the Hagemony were.

  


“Whatever their fate was, they legacy allowed mankind to travel at speeds beyond our imaginations throughout the galaxy. However, in 2157, when explorers were attempting to activate Relay 314, a group of ships from the Turian Imperial Hierarchy emerged and attacked without provocation. ”

  


“The Turians, at that time, believed the Alliance to be in violation of rules they were not even aware of. It wasn’t long before a strike force of alien ships over Shanxi and decimated the defense forces there. For three months, it was a stalemate between the residents of Shanxi and the invaders.”

  


The image changed to what appeared to be a soldier with graying hair. The caption of ‘Captain Viktor Mikailovich’ appeared under him. “Turians are sticklers to standard operation procedure when it comes to war. Their entire culture’s based on military ideals. So, when they came to Shanxi with the intent of stomping us down, they thought they had us beaten like they have with other races,“ A smug grin appeared on his face, “damn birds were dead wrong.”

  


The image changed back to the newscaster, “despite the best efforts of the Alliance troops, being cut off from the rest of Sol Space, surrounded on all sides by ruthless invaders, General Edison Williams, the last leader of the colony garrison, surrendered.”

  


As he continued to speak, several images of photos taken by survivors and soldiers appeared in a slide show. Each picture showing the devastation of the once sprawling metropolis, reduced to a charred corpse of its former self.

  


The image changed back to Captain Mikailovich. “I certainly cannot blame the general for having surrendered. However, the fact remains that the colony was his responsibility.” A frown appeared on his lips. “We lost a lot of good men and women during those three months. Nearly a thousand enlisted men and women gave their lives defending that colony. It’s a small consolation to their families to know that it took intervention from another source to stop the war.”

  


The screen went to a shot of a graveyard of the enlisted outside of Shanxi’s capital. “Rumor has it that that the Turians were planning an all-out invasion of not just the colonies outside of Sol space, but Sol itself. The Imperial Turian Senate of the Hierarchy had voted unanimously to level every human colony and force humanity into the role of a vassal state.”

  


Once again, Mikailovich. “The turians, having the most numerous fleets in the galaxy, like strong arming other races into their ‘protection’, if you can call it that. The volus, for example, were one of the first. Sure, they’re a bunch of tradesmen, but the fact remain that the Hierarchy has more than half a dozen races enlisted as ‘vassals’. How else can you explain them being able to stand up against the salarians or the asari whenever galactic politics are concerned?”

  


The camera went back to Jake. “During the last month of the First Contact War, Admiral Kastanie Drescher and the Second Fleet retook Shanxi with overwhelming force. Whether the invasion of Earth was to occur or not, the war was immediately curtailed by delegations from the Galactic Council. All hostilities ceased and soon, humanity was officially welcomed into the galactic community. However, some scars still remain.”

  


The picture changed back to the modern day Shanxi, where most of the wreckage had been cleaned up and replaced with new buildings. “Many feel that the turians waged an unjust war against humanity and as such, have demanded reparations. While the Hierarchy was able to make monetary restitution, some feel that it’s not enough, as many alien races feel humanity is too aggressive, never mind the fact that it was the turians who shot first.”

  


His report complete, the camera returned to him. “I’m Jake Fleming and this is Global News Network.”


	6. Chapter 6

As it was, many residents of Earth did not have much contact with the peoples of the galactic community. The most they could discover was by an information super structure known as the extranet, which had enabled communication that spanned the galaxy.

  


However, seeing as that was a premium for most people at the time, the most they could learn was via second hand knowledge from people with extranet access.

  


And then there was Fornax.

  


Established in Houston, Texas in the first quarter of 2167, it had secured the rights from the Alliance Parliament to legally publish pornographic materials of extra –terrestrial species for public consumption of the human populace.

  


It was eventually spread out into the galaxy when it included human and other lesser known species for the galactic community as a whole to consume.

  


If there was ever a constant in the galaxy; it was that any race with a libido to exploit would be exploited.

  


Within the first month of quarterly publication, Fornax had achieved over a million subscribers on Earth alone. The next month it had tripled. Within half a year’s time, the number of subscriptions had reached a threshold of nearly fifty million from Earth and extraterrestrial sources. Eventually, the sheer demand had caused the Headquarters to relocate from Earth to Bekenstein.

  


The change didn’t seem to hamper the seemingly insatiable demand for alien pornography. However, it seemed to serve more of a purpose for people to find out exactly what aliens looked like. Some were intrigued at the prospect of seeing what other species looked like. Others were disappointed to find out that some species weren’t all that different from their own and that the differences were superficial at best.

  


“So, that’s what a Turian looks like,” Ann said as she and Nora looked through the images in the magazine. It had been discarded for a while and would had been lost had Ann noticed the first issue of Fornax had a turian on its cover.

  


Nora tilted her head. “So, they have plates over their bodies because of their homeworld is a lot harder to live in.”

  


Ann shrugged her shoulders. “Still. They look like birds. I wonder where their wings went.”

  


“Probably didn’t need them.”

  


She snorted. “Birds that can’t fly? What kind of stupid thing is that?”

  


The picture in particular was one with a naked male turian with his back turned to the camera. He stood beside the waterfall of a large stone quarry, as though he were a warrior in times of meditation. Never having seen one before, both girls tilted their heads in confusion.

  


Nora pointed to the fringe on his head and said, “What do you think those do?”

  


Ann furrowed her brow in thought. “To cover their necks from the sun?”

  


She laughed a bit. “Maybe that’s how you tell the boys from the girls.”

  


Ann was skeptical as she turned the page to a female turian. “I dunno. They look the same to me.”

  


Nora rolled her good eye and pushed her friend to turn the page again. It then came to a salarian. Only males. Despite looking through the whole magazine, they couldn’t find hide nor hair of a female.

  


“Why only boys?” Ann asked in confusion as she turned back to the page with the salarian on it.

  


Now Nora shrugged. “Maybe there’s not a lot of girls. So, they don’t leave their home a lot.”

  


Ann frowned. “But if that’s true, and there’s supposed to be a lot of them, that means they have a lot of babies.”

  


“You think they have them the same way we do?”

  


“I dunno. It’d be pretty gross, though.”

  


Both girls looked at the salarian with the confident grin, as he reclined on what appeared to be an sofa with a color scheme of his homeworld, Sur’Kesh.

  


“He kinda looks like a frog,” Ann observed with a cocked eyebrow.

  


“Maybe that means they have long tongues to catch food with.”

  


She frowned again. “That’s even grosser.”

  


“Well, if they are frogs, then maybe they need them. Seems to make sense.”

  


Ann leveled her eyes. “What, did they get bugs off their eyes too? Get real, Nora.”

  


“It’s possible!” Nora objected calmly.

  


They turned the page again to what appeared to be a grey skinned woman and man. The skin itself seemed coarse, yet it appeared to be in the form of plates that were smooth enough to give their faces protection. Between the plates, there seemed to be dark creases that stood out from the rest and made it appear almost like a tattoo. Their hair was long and curly, and a bit messy from what appeared to be their intimacy. What caught their attention were their three fingers on each hand. A detail they had missed with the salarian.

  


The woman, who was turned to the camera, smiled with glowing eyes that seemed to give both girls pause.

  


“She’s beautiful,” Nora whispered. Never mind the fact that the woman was in a less than reputable publication, her features were striking to her. A small part of her hoped that she’d have the chance to meet something so amazing to her young mind.

  


Ann looked at the caption. “Quarians?”

  


“Beautiful,” Nora repeated. Ann noticed this and smiled a bit at her friend. She could also tell there was a fleeting dream that someday, Nora could be as beautiful as the Quarian in the magazine, but was quickly deflated when she looked at her gnarled hand and arm. The smile faded from her face and she looked away.

  


Ann reached over her friend’s shoulders and held her close. “You’re beautiful, Nora.”

  


She smiled, leaned into her friend and whispered, “Thank you.”

  


They went back to the magazine and turned the page to what appeared to be a blue skinned woman. She sat cross-legged on the beach of an undoubtedly alien world as the sun rose. Like the salarian, she grinned and wore a bathing suit that could have been considered a tissue paper, if one was being generous.

  


Ann’s eyes went wide. Not at the fact the woman was nude, but the sheer amount of blue she saw. “Wow. She looked like she fell into a bucket of blue paint!”

  


Nora looked at the wording at the top of the page. “Ah-sa-ri? Asari?”

  


Ann narrowed her eyes at the head of the asari model. “They look like they should have hair, but that’s not hair at all. What are those things?”

  


Nora leaned in beside her friend. “It could be skin. But it doesn’t normally hang out like it does for us. What do you think it does?”

  


Ann furrowed her brow in thought. “Hmm. I think it helps get water off their head whenever they take a shower. See? The parts right there would let the water go through them faster.”

  


“But they’re so blue. They’re probably are made of water!” Nora suggested.

  


“Then why do they have those head thingies, then?” she retorted and pointed at the fringe at the back of the asari’s head.

  


“Maybe it’s extra water they pack whenever they go on long trips,” she offered, still confused as to how the anatomy of an asari worked.

  


“Think they have any boy asari?” Ann asked as she flipped the pages through the rest of the magazine again. “That’d be a lot more water they’d carry if that’s true.”

  


“Oh, wait! They’re the one aliens that have five fingers. Everything else has three,” Nora said as the epiphany came to her.

  


Skeptical, Ann looked through the magazine again and discovered, to her chagrin, that Nora was right once more. Turians, Salarians, and Quarians all had three fingers. Even another race that neither had seen before.

  


“A dinosaur!” Nora said in surprise. The krogan stood atop a large pile of rocks, clad only in a loincloth, with a heavy spear over his shoulder.

  


“A what?” Ann asked and turned to her friend.

  


“It’s like… um, a really big lizard!” she said with excitement.

  


“You mean those small green things in the books at the church? The ones that were supposed to be really big?”

  


“Yeah!”

  


Ann leveled her eyes, not entirely sure what to make of them. Sure, he was big and somewhere, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she would ever meet one. With a frown, she wondered if she could beat it, if it threatened Nora. Well, for his sake, he best not.

  


She turned the page once more, and it came to what looked like a female alien. Only this one looked like a cross between the previous three. It was distinctly feminine, but it had scales, was humanoid, but had five fingers.

  


Ann slowly tried to read the caption as best she could. “Duhrrreeell?”

  


“Drell,” Nora assisted, having better reading comprehension than her friend did.

  


Nora pointed at the female alien and noted. “Now that looks like a lizard. Wonder if they eat the same stuff lizards do.”

  


“Of course not. They’re aliens. They eat alien food. You think they’d want to eat the junk we got here?” Ann muttered.

  


“It would be kind of silly if they did. That’s why they’d have their own food. How else would they live?”

  


Ann shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  


She turned the page again to show the centerfold. When it was laid out to them both, their eyes grew wide as they saw what could only be described as a… glowing, floating pink thing with lots of legs. It was also completely exposed.

  


“Ewww! Gross!” Ann exclaimed. She had never been so shocked and disgusted in all her thirteen years of life. And she had seen her fair share of ugly things.

  


“Oh… oh, wow!” Nora whispered as she blushed furiously, equally surprised as her friend as her good hand covered her mouth.

  


“Ok, I don’t wanna see anymore,” Ann said as she closed the magazine and threw it back into the dumpster where she found it.

  


“Hmm,” Nora mumbled, as she tried to properly process what it exactly was she had just seen. However, it wasn’t that important as she looked to her friend again as she picked up her bag and followed Ann as they left that part of town.

  


*

  


Ann walked through the city slowly. It was quiet again. Like the last time. However, there was something different. The buildings, the streets, and everything in sight was different. Everything was clean.

  


In the previous dream, everything had been in disarray. Chaotic. Wild. This was the complete opposite.

  


Curious, she walked forward between the buildings to a notable light at the heart of the city. The closer she got, the more she realized that it wasn’t a light, but something illuminated by the sun above.

  


There was a figure who stood in complete silence. When Ann drew close, she took in a breath of surprise.

  


It was herself. However, she was clothed in the most immaculate and beautiful blue clothes she had ever seen. Her skin was pristine. She radiated purity.

  


Then, it opened its eyes.   
  
It was hollow inside. Dead. A perfect corpse in mockery of a living person. When its eyeless gaze fell upon her, she felt its own hunger desiring to consume her, like the other version of herself.

  
And like before, she was consumed.

  


She blinked her eyes several times and noticed the darkened room where she and Nora slept in was started to grow brighter with the rising sun.

  


While the nightmare didn’t bother her as much as it did the last time, she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that either. Was it even a dream? It was something she never told anyone, let alone Nora. Even if she did, what could she say?


	7. Chapter 7

2170

  


“Be careful,” Nora said on the bench as Ann made her way to the exit of the church.

  


Ann nodded. There had been rumors going around. The leader of the Bones was taken down and someone had taken his place. That was the closest things to rules the gangs in OLA had. If you were tough enough to run one of the gangs, then you could lead it. Posers never lasted long.

  


A group of the Reds, who called themselves the Outriders, went to the territory of the Bones to see if the rumors were true. They hadn’t come back. While Ann held no real loyalty towards the gang itself, a few of the Outriders had helped herself and Nora a few times in the past. Nora’s influence gave her the idea that it was her turn to do good on them.

  


As she put her heavily decorated helmet on, she could only wonder as to who the new leader of the Bones was. The previous leader, while an ass when it came to turf wars, he knew to leave the church well enough alone. If there was someone that could take him down, then that didn’t bode well for the rest of the gangs. The Bones, by themselves, couldn’t take on the rest of the gangs, however, it was certainly strong enough to take out the Reds, the Blues, the Claws, and the other smaller gangs one by one if they were so inclined.   
  


She frowned at the frame of her HD-45 Weasel and wondered how the speedbike had been able to last as long as it did. The fact that it could even hover off the ground was a miracle as she revved the eezo core engine to life. Immediately, the vehicle roared and the repulse lifts on the bottom started to propel off of the ground and into the night.

  


The sooner she found the Outriders, the faster she could head back to the church, get Nora, and head back to Red turf. The heads of the Reds would think about doing whatever it was they did whenever leadership in any of the other gangs changed hands. It wasn’t any of Ann’s business.

  


Ann finally reached the border between the Reds and the Bones’ turf; the OLA Superhighway. Seemingly endless miles of dilapidated freeways once told of a city with such promise, only to piss it all away when off-world colonization started.

  


One of the facts about the highways of OLA was that if you rode a speedbike on it, it used to belong to someone else. Ann had gotten hers half a year ago from one of the 14th Street Bones that thought he could run over Ann easily even if she was already a foot taller than him. Ironically, she used that foot to knock him off his bike and steal it from him.

  


Dropping from one level to the next, she turned sharply to the right and caught up with her quarry.

  


“Jimmy!” she cried over the roar of her bike as she caught up with him.

  


“Ann! They’re dead! Shank got ‘em!” the overweight member of the Outriders screeched. She could tell he was scared. Whoever this Shank guy was, it shook him.

  


“Are they here?” she asked as they both got onto the highway exit.

  


“I was able to shake them for a bit, but not for long. You can’t shake guys like Shank. The guy’s cracked!” Jimmy said as they got onto the freeway.

  


Sure enough, behind them, five more lights from faster VM-95s emerged onto the freeway and steadily began to catch up to them. Ann looked behind her and figured the one in the center was Shank, with four of his subordinates with him.

  


“Keep going! I’ll hold ‘em off!” Ann said as she pushed her bike as hard as she could to tear in front of Jimmy, only to pull a 180 and speed towards their pursuers. Seeing all of them, save for Shank break off, Ann pulled out a pipe from her pant leg with her left hand, switched the grip and struck one of the riders in the face. True to form, the remaining for Bones broke off chasing Jimmy and started to follow her as she caused her bike to take a flying leap off the freeway and into the abandoned part of the city.

  


“That’s it,” Ann mumbled as she saw four lights separate in attempted to flank her. What most of them didn’t know was that she was more familiar with this part of the town than most gave her credit for. With a hard bank turn to the left, she turned off her lights momentarily and to her lack of surprise, she saw another one of the Bones speed past her location. With a smirk, she turned her light back on and gave chase.

  


Two of the Bones went down before she realized that she had lost track of Shank and one of his toadies. A louder roar blasted the back of her ears and she looked back to see one of her pursuers only seconds behind her. She was about to formulate another plan when she looked up to see Jimmy had not gone back to Red turf, but had come back to help as he jumped his bike off the building and onto her pursuer.

  


She whooped joyfully as he came up to her side and said, “That’s how you do it!” With a smile, Jimmy nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. Above them, the both saw Shank alone on another freeway.

  


“There he is! Let’s get ‘em!” she ordered. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he nodded and followed her. If they could take out Shank here and now, then the power structure of the Bones would be in disarray.

  


With another leap, they both got behind him and were closing in on the leader of the Bones. It was almost too easy...

  


...too easy.

  


Ann’s eyes widened when she realized their mistake.

  


“Jimmy! Back! Run!” she screamed and tried to apply the brakes on her bike. He tried to follow suit, but his bike had too much momentum and just as Ann feared, several gunshots rang through the air. Immediately, Jimmy fell off his bike and after it crashed into the railing, his body lay still on the ground and would never move again.

  


Several more gunshots went off and Ann pushed her bike as hard as she could to just get out of there. When the weapons fire stopped, she looked to her rear view mirror and confirmed her fears. Shank was right behind her.

  


When he was within earshot, he screamed as loud as he could, “Run away, little girl! Run away! It makes it all the better!”  
  


With a snarl on her face, she picked up her pipe again; well aware that he knew she was reaching for it. Instead of swinging at his face as she did with one of his men, she stabbed it into the side of the front repulse lift of his bike, as they were notoriously fragile.

  


As she hoped, it disrupted his speed and soon enough, he lost balance and while he did his best not to fall of his bike, it allowed Ann the moment she needed to push her bike to its limits and speed off. Breathing heavily, she hoped that that would be the last she would see him. Yet, a part of her knew that was wrong. Shank would stop at nothing to find her. Too bad she had no intention of being around.

  


*

  


“Oh, Ann, what’s wrong?” Nora asked as she looked up from her book to see a rather spooked Ann burst through the door. Father Christopher was there as well. They were thankfully, the only ones there and the fewer people that knew, the better.

  


“Nora, we have to go. Leave town. Now!” Ann said as she ran to get what few things she possessed.

  


“Wait, Ann, what’s wrong,” Nora said as she struggled to her feet.

  


“Long story, I’ll tell you about it when we’re past the city limits,” she said as she finished putting her knife and what few other articles the considered precious into her pockets.

  


“Wait a minute,” Father Christopher said, attempting to calm her. “What are you worried about? Surely anyone that runs the gangs understands about how the church is a neutral zone.”

  


She turns to him and shakes her head. “No. This guy doesn’t seem like he cares. He gunned down several of the Reds just for trying to find out who he is. I barely got away from him just a little while ago.”

  


He paused at Ann’s description before asking, “Is this the same one that rumors have been talking about? The new leader of the Bones?”

  


Ann nodded quickly as she took Nora’s arm. “I’m sorry, Father, but Nora and I need to leave now. It’s not safe here anymore. He’ll figure out who I am and that means he’ll go after Nora.”

  


A new voice answered at the exit to the room. “Crippled girls aren’t my type, bitch, but it’s a nice thought.”

  


All three of them whirled to see Shank. The Caucasian man stood at least half a head taller than Ann. Tattoos covered both of his arms, several piercings along both ears and nose, clad in a black and white jacket that signified the gang. He was also scrapped rather noticeably on the left side of his face.

  


“You think I’m gonna let you leave town after what you pulled? Sorry, babe, not gonna happen,” he sneered.

  


Unafraid, Father Christopher stood in between the girls and their latest visitor. “Stop. This place is a not a place of violence. All the gangs agreed this as a neutral area.”

  


Shank gave Father Christopher a humored smile before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the stomach. Nora screamed as he tumbled to the ground with a groan. Shank’s smirk didn’t fade as he stood over the dying man. “You think I give a fuck what you think, old man? If I want something, I get-”

  


Ann had tackled him and punched him in the face as hard as she could, while knocking the gun from his hand. Her face a mask of anger, Ann started to beat him mercilessly. Father Christphoer, like Nora, was one of the few people to ever treat her like a person and to see a tool like Shank shoot him so casually drove her into a rage.

  


Eventually, Shank was able to push Ann off and before he could search for his gun, saw Nora stumbling to the exit. He reached for one of the many candle holders and struck Nora over the head with the brass handle, “where you think you’re going, freak?!”

  


As Nora tumbled to the ground unconscious, something in Ann snapped. No sooner did he turn to face her again he found himself once more on the ground. With her legs on his shoulders and no real leverage to get her off, he was helpless as Ann began to pummel his face repeatedly as though her hands were sledgehammers. All that mattered was making him suffer for hurting Nora. With each blow, she let out a beastly grunt, oblivious to the small wisps of blue light that sparked briefly around her arms. His normally fierce features started to dull as Ann’s repeated strikes against his face started to mar and break skin.

  


So consumed with hate was Ann that she didn’t notice several of the candles on the brass that had fallen to the ground had started a fire. Several of the flames had quickly jumped to the drapes, the wooden seats, and the books.

  


Yet, it all didn’t matter, as by the time the room was encased in flames, Shank’s face was bloodied and battered to the point where he would never be the same again if he had escaped. When he wasn’t moving anymore, Ann still punched as hard as her strength would allow. When one final punch broke the front on his skull, she smiled viciously at her kill. A sick and bloodthirsty thrill went through her system as the kick of her triumph slowly wore off.

  


It immediately vanished when she looked around herself in horror. With the adrenaline still in her veins, she made a mad dash out of the door to escape the inferno.

  


She was only steps out of the door when she realized that Nora was still in there. She was about to rush back in when the support of the church’s roof fell down and the resulting rush of air knocked her back.

  


“Nora?!” Ann cried as she looked around desperately, hoping that Nora had gotten out. “Nora!?” From one of the alleys, Finch, another member of the Reds, had heard the noise and was the first there to see a desperate Ann crying for her friend.

  


“Nora!!!” she yelled into the night and fell to her knees as the blaze consumed all that was good in her life.

  



	8. Chapter 8

What had been only a few months had seemed like years to Ann since the church had burned down. The subsequent gang war with the Bones, the introduction of a newer group called The Three Storms, and the other gangs meant nothing to her. Her appetite was gone. Her will to fight was nonexistent.

  


To think it took a wretched little turd like Finch to make her remember what it was like to move again.

  


The little bastard knew what happened. He saw it. He was there. And unless Ann cooperated with helping the Reds, since it was her fault, he was going to let everyone know what she did. So, she cooperated. If there was someone the Reds needed help with anything, she would ‘volunteer’.

  


That was how she came to this. The Reds needed resources. What they had now was in no way adequate for dealing with the Bones, Blues, and more. So, one of the leaders, while dusting, got an idea.

  


In one of the affluent neighborhoods outside of the slums, there was an up and coming senator, John Stanton. He was in a prime position to acquire almost anything they could ever need. And what better way to do that than use a relatively unspoiled Ann as a honey trap to blackmail him into working for the Reds?

  


Judging by the other men in the Reds, she had a feeling this guy would have been no different than the Reds. It was a miracle she was still untouched, considering how fresh a lot of guys got. She thanked her height for that, as not many guys wanted to hit on a girl that was six feet tall and often towered over them.

  


It was all supposed to go without a hitch. She would sneak into his house, play up an innocent runaway act, and frame him into a position where she could say anything that could ruin his career. While she was, technically doing her job, it also put her in a position where it allowed her to think for once. If she could manipulate him just right, perhaps he could find a way to break the Reds. The hard part was escaping.

  


As if someone had figured out that she’d try to escape on her own, Ray and Ted, the two boys who had tried to kidnap Nora a few years ago, were sent by the heads of the gang to watch over her. One a roughneck and the other an underweight weakling, remembered what she had done to them. Tempting as it was to get back at her for the past, they weren’t stupid enough to ‘damage the goods’, as they called it.

  


Of course, not everything went according to plan.

  


*

  


She handed John the key to his car and went back to the bed in the dingy motel room she hid in.  It was the dead of night. Thankfully, everyone in this part of the slums was asleep. He could leave, go back to his perfect life, with his wife and children.

  


“Ann, what’s wrong?” John asked; the concern evident in his voice.

  


Ann snorted in derision and turned to him in disgust. “Just go, you idiot. You’re free! The whole deal with the Reds? Busted. Just go back home and forget this ever happened!”

  


But he didn’t. And it drove Ann to madness. She had done everything in her power to make him hate her. Hate the Reds. She had done everything she could, short of destroying his marriage and political career in order to either give the damn Reds what they wanted or ruin it all.

  


She’d failed. Again. It was hard to believe that there was another person out there who genuinely reminded her of Nora. Even more so the fact that it was a politician.

  


Exhausted, she bowed her head somberly and continued, “Fine. If you wanna know, the party’s over,” she said as she padded back to the bed. The fire was gone in her voice. “Go home, John. I’ll be fine. I’m used to this.”

  


John padded in and closed the door behind himself quietly. His voice was a whisper as he continued, “Are you sure? I ran into your… ‘friends’ a little while ago. They’re looking for you.”

  


Ann chuckled once. “I know. Guys like them are a dime a dozen. Once you learn how one of their heads work, the rest are just as easy to read.” She shook her head, walked back to the bed and sat on the edge. “They don’t know this place… not yet, anyway. Even then, I got other places they don’t know about. ”

  


When Ann stood up, she smiled at him. The first real smile she had shown in a long time. Gone was the anger, the hostility, the violence and in its place was the person that she wanted to be instead of the person she had to be.

  


“Thank you, John,” she said warmly. “I've made my mind up. I've had it with the Reds... the gang wars, the fighting. I know what I really want, now. You know, what you have; a sense of security. Real or not, I want it. Someday, after I get them, you might see me again and think, 'who's that gorgeous woman over there with the handsome husband and good looking kids?'” When she looked back to him her lip started to quiver slightly, “And you won't even recognize me...”

  


She sniffed once, stood up, and smiled again. “Good-bye, John. Take care of yourself,” she whispered sweetly.

  


John, stoic as always, allowed a small smile of his own and nodded. “You too, Ann.”

  


He was about to open the door when it was kicked in violently. In the entrance, Ray and Ted stood with menacing glares at Ann.

  


“So, bitch, you think you can get rid of us that easy?” Ray, the tall, blonde with the physique of a football player, snarled.

  


“I dunno,” Ann mumbled angrily, “considering how you stood there with your mouths opened, I was wondering when the flies would start coming around.”

  


At the end of his rope, he stomped forward and back fisted Ann into the wall. She slid to the ground and held her face as pain throbbed through her cheek.

  


“You know what? I don’t care what they want anymore... they’re just gonna have to get someone else when I’m done with you. And all they’re gonna know is that you tried to run away. No one runs from the Reds, bitch,” he then swung his foot into her stomach. “No one!”

  


Though he wasn’t as young or strong as Ray, John dashed forward to push the younger man into the wall. In an instant, Ray pushed him and before John could do anything, Ray was on him and unleashed a flurry of punches. With each strike, John felt bone start to crack, despite trying to use his arms to defend himself.

  


“Ray!” Ann screamed as she stood up on shaky legs, “Stop! You’re killing him!” He was beyond listening to her and had a feeling she was next. Yet, for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t concerned for her own safety. Thinking fast, she ran to the juice bar, opened the liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of brandy and smashed it over his head.

  


When he collapsed on the ground, Ann turned the shattered bottle’s remains on the quivering Ted and growled with her teeth clenched, “Ok, Ted, listen good! You don’t wanna die, then help me get him to the car so I can get him to a doctor! Now!”

  


Ted, accustomed to being pushed around, nodded fearfully as he leaped forward and assisted Ann in carrying the beaten senator to the car. Within minutes, she drove off, leaving Ted alone with the unconscious Ray.

  


Like with speed-bikes, the only way you knew how to drive a car was when it used to belong to someone else. Like many Reds, she had taken a crash course during many of the turf wars and scuffles that took place. While she had crashed a few cars in the process, however, she quickly learned and that gave her the skill to get him out of the slums and back to the neighborhoods where he belonged.

  


“Hold on, John,” Ann said as she got the car on the speedways, “we’re only a half hour out from the exit.” He nodded as it seemed to be a struggle for him to stay awake. “Stay with me. We’ll get you some help.”

  


As she kept her foot on the pedal, she noticed a pair of headlights closing in on them. The only other people on the OLA freeway at this hour was no doubt Ray and Ted. She frowned and considered pushing them off the side of the highway when she looked back to John. If she was aggressive, she’d get him hurt. She had hurt him enough in her efforts. No more.

  


Her preoccupation was broken when her pursuers had rammed into the back of her car. She tried to keep the balance of the vehicle, however, that moment’s hesitation allowed them to get on her left and started to force her against the edge. Thirty feet above the ground going at freeway speeds would no doubt kill them both. She turned against them and was almost able to slip away when the guardrail for the freeway approached out of the darkness.

  


Time slowed down for Ann as the instant both cars careened off the freeway, she went to her right and held John as tightly as she could, praying that somehow, something would save them. When the vehicles bounced off the roof of a building, they rammed into the chest-high wall, which sent them and their occupants out into the sky again.

  


Ann screamed and when it seemed she and John were about to collide right into the side of a building, a blue field of light from her encased them both. Immediately, their acceleration was diminished and both crashed into the wall at a far lower speed than they would have a moment ago.

  


Ann slowly got up and saw John still breathing, yet, she wasn’t sure if he’d gotten even more hurt than before. When she got to her feet, she clenched her teeth and held onto her right arm. If she was lucky, it would only be hurting for a bit. She turned to the wreckage of both cars to see a motionless Ted and Ray sprawled on the ground.

  


She limped to the Reds, having a feeling they didn’t survive. When she saw their bloody faces, she knew she was right. On habit, she reached into both their pockets and pulled out their credit chits. To her lack of surprise, both of them had a substantial amount, no doubt chiseling what they could from the Reds and those were supposed to shake down for protection money.

  


When she heard the sounds of sirens drawing closer, she winced at the pain at her side again, and then leaned against the smoldering frame of the car. She wondered how she was going to explain this. However, when she remembered the common vice among the cops of OLA, she had an idea.

  


*

  


Senator John Stanton groaned as he regained consciousness in what appeared to be a sterile hospital room. Two figures blocked the view of the morning sun. One of the people was the image of his wife, Carol, and a police officer right behind her.

  


“Senator Stanton. Glad to see you’re back with us,” the detective said stoically.

  


“Oh, John, you’re alright!” Carol gasped as she took one of his hands gingerly.

  


“Where... am I?” he croaked, as he noticed a good portion of his body was covered in bandages and casts.

  


“You’re at Alliance Medical, just off the base. When we found you, you were pretty banged up. You were lucky; the three kids that tried to run you off the highway weren’t. Had to get you rushed to here. Made it just in time, by the looks of it.”

  


“What?” he asked, afraid of the implications.

  


The detective shook his head. “Yeah. Sad, really. Three kids in the other car, two boys and a girl. Belonged to a notorious gang in OLA called the Tenth Street Reds. From what we were able to learn, the marks on the ground showed that it wasn’t your fault. They were hopped up on Red Sand and you just happened to run into them.”

  


John blinked, “how do you know all that?”

  


The detective sighed, “the girl told us; right before she died.”

  


The senator paused, then looked down to his wife’s hand, gave it an affectionate squeeze, and whispered, “I see.”

  


He never got a chance to thank her.

  


*

  


At that moment, a few blocks north, Ann leaned back against the bus bench as the next ride out of town started to pull up. When it finally pulled up to her stop, she stood and hopped into the bus. She scanned the credit chit she had swiped from Ray and Ted, what was left of it after she had bribed the cops to say she had died, however, she had enough to pay for a ticket out of town. Best of all, everyone would think that she was dead.

 

She could finally do it. She could start over. Free from OLA. Free from the Reds. Free of the constant fighting. John had saved her and he wasn’t even aware of it.

  
As she took her seat and put her small bag on her lap, she looked back to the hospital, smiled a bit and whispered, “Thanks, John. Good bye.”

  



	9. Chapter 9

Ann lay on the first clean bed she had slept on in... ever. Sure, it was a budget motel, fifteen credits a night, but the sheets were clean, there was hot and cold running water, and there was a small diner across the street where she could have breakfast the next morning.

  


She had gotten to Bakersfield the day before and realized that she needed to keep moving. Sure, no one in this city knew who she was, but she had to get away from OLA. The further she was from the specters of her past, the better.

  


She sat up and activated the poly-tool she had gotten from a pawn shop. It had no extranet access, it took a whole forty five seconds to activate, and the display aspect was warped, but it served its purpose. She took stock of the money she had taken from the Reds, her possessions, excluding the clothes on her back, and possible locations she could flee to.

  


If she was frugal, the money she had pilfered would last her at least half a year. But what then? It was obvious she had to settle somewhere. She didn’t want to return to the scavenging, larceny, and violence she had just escaped from.

  


She leaned over the edge of the bed and opened up the drawer of the bed stand. Moving the Gideon’s Bible aside, she found the local atlas, its paper losing its color and worn from the years of lack of use. She opened up the pages to the continent and considered several different over places she could go to.

  


She sat cross legged on the bed as her eyes traversed the map of the North American continent and for each city she sought, she frowned. Most of the choices she would take were no better than OLA or dubious at best. There would definitely be places where people would ask questions. The last thing she needed was to be asked questions. There would be no trail. No sign. Ann from OLA was dead and she’d prefer to keep it that way.

  


She blinked and looked to the northwestern portion of the map. Alaska. Sure, there was the Alliance military presence in Vancouver, but not the state itself. It was large enough for her to hide in, there were enough towns where she could relocate to, and there were plenty of escape avenues, just in case.

  


She then closed up the map, put it back in the drawer, and lay on the bed with her arms and legs spread. It was all going to come together for her. She’d start over. The smile on her face soon faded as she reached over to her bag, and pulled out that single dose of Red Sand.

  


“I promise, Nora. I’ll make good on it,” she whispered. It also made her realize that she needed to take another route north. No doubt the police would have something to check for smugglers and drug runners at major stops. She needed an alternative.

  


*

  


For two days, Ann trudged up the lonely and quiet I-5 freeway. Every time she heard the roar of an engine come up behind her, she would turn around and hold out her thumb in hopes someone would give her a ride. Using the bus would cut into what little money she had and she had a feeling there would be people that would be on the lookout for people like herself.

  


The plan was that she’d get as close to the state line as she could, then sneak around the patrols and police to get in. Then continue on her way to freedom and her new life.

  


However, she forgot that not everyone wanted to pick up some grungy, six-foot-tall, sixteen year old girl in second-hand clothes. And the ones that did left her with the same nausea that reminded her of some of the Reds. She’d hate for any of them to get fresh and she’d have to hurt them... unless they were one of those types she’d not be able to fight off and end up getting cut to pieces. As much as she hated it, she had to be picky in her choice of rides.

  


A drop of water struck the top of her head and she looked up to the cloudy sky to confirm her annoyance. She sighed; it was going to rain again. The worn leather jacket she had wasn’t going to be enough.

  
The rumble of another vehicle caused her to turn around to see an antiquated 18-wheeler semi rumble down the road. Ann had to blink. Most of the vehicles she saw didn’t have wheels at all. Most simply hovered close to the ground, but they didn’t have wheels. Either way, it looked like a ride and right now, Ann didn’t want to bet against the weather. She held out her thumb once more and walked backwards as the semi closed in. To her dismay, it, like all the others, passed her by. She grit her teeth and growled. She was starting to believe that people like Nora and John were an extreme minority and that the rest of humanity was comprised of nothing but jerks. When she turned around to start walking again, she balked when she saw the semi that had just passed her pull over.

  


While her sense of preservation urged her to be cautious, she was more interested in dodging the rain than anything else. She ran up to the passenger side of the rig and saw the window slowly creep down, as though it hadn’t been used in a long, long time.

  


“Where you go, girl?” a thick and feminine Russian accent asked from inside the cab.

  


“I’m heading to Alaska,” Ann said as she stepped up to the window. “You heading that way?”

  


“Da!” the short Russian woman in the driver seat said as she opened the door for Ann. “Get in! Is going to Anchorage, drop you off on way there. Sounds good?”

  


Nodding eagerly, Ann hopped in and onto the seat. As she buckled herself in, she got a good look at the driver.

  


She was shorter and stouter than Ann, then again, most people were, however, she seemed shorter than usual. Her hair, while not as long as Ann’s, was tied in several braids and dyed with a plethora of colors that most people didn’t have. The common shirt and denim pants she wore were off-set to the pair of the most amazing boots Ann had ever seen; steel-toed, made of sturdy leather, and with a plethora of buckles. It made her wonder just what kind of person had picked her up.

  


“What is name, girl?” the driver asked as she started the rig back on the road.

  


Ann blinked when she realized that she never considered an alias yet. She wanted to lie and give this woman a false name. However, the playful smile on the Russian woman’s face told her that, perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad to be honest with this one. “Ann.”

  


“Ann. Is good name,” she said, nodding vibrantly.

  


“What’s your name?” Ann asked, curious as to whom her driver was.

  


The woman smirked at her playfully and said, “Is Metal Queen. Means Queen of all Metal! Is ruler of all things Metal! For Metal is good!” She then used her left hand to give her a sign where her hand turned into an ‘H’.

  


Ann cocked an eyebrow at the enthusiastic response and wondered if she made a mistake.

  


“So, Ann. Why you go north?”

  


She considered her words carefully and felt that this person didn’t need to know everything. “I’m starting over.”

  


“Hmm,” the driver nodded in understanding. “Where is you coming from?”

  


“OLA.”

  


The smiled faded from Metal Queen’s face and then she shook her head. “Is no good, that place. Broken lives, ruined dreams. Have been seen too many from there.” The smile returned to her face and said, “Is good you go. Start over and live. What is you want to do?”

  


It was another question Ann hadn’t counted on. “I... I don’t know yet. I’ve been trying too hard to survive to even think about what I’d want to do.”

  


The Metal Queen nodded in understanding. “Is no rush, but must be smart on things. Can I be giving advice?”

  


Ann chuckled quietly, “Sure, why not.” While she had little idea to listen to someone she just met, she decided to humor the Metal Queen.

  


She emphasized her first point with her index finger, “First; you find Soul. Is no good without it. Is no you without it.” Her middle finger joined the first, “Second; find Heart. Is no strength without it. No finds love without it.” Her ring finger joined the other two, adorned with a stainless steel ring on it, Ann noted, “Find Home. So you is can always go back to somewheres. Is good?”

  


The simplicity of the Metal Queen’s words gave Ann pause as it almost seemed like an obtainable goal, as abstract as they were. She nodded to the Metal Queen’s satisfaction.

  


“Good! Now, has girl been listening to good music?”

  


Ann tried to translate that song into terms she could understand and if she was right, she shook her head. “Didn’t have much chance to listen to a lot of music.”

  


The Metal Queen shook her head and growled, “Is no good. We fix that now! First, we listen to classics! Without classics, we have no metal! With no metal, we have no good!”

  


With that, she reached to the center of the dashboard and after a few button presses. Then, a recording of music that Ann had never heard of began to play.

  


A guitar chord played. Then, a momentary silence.

  


_~It’s been a hard day’s night, and I’ve been working like a dog.~_

  


For the rest of that day, Ann was inundated with music that had been written around two centuries ago. Despite never having listened to little more than the redundant beats of underground drug clubs she had the misfortune of going to during her time with the Reds, she liked the Beatles.

  


*

  
The next day on their way north, the Metal Queen decided that now it was time for Ann to graduate into learning about ‘Real’ Metal.

  


It was initially loud, fast, and hard. However, it didn’t take long for Ann to acclimate to the hard and fast beats of _Flesh Coffin_. Followed after that, came the monstrous rhythm of _Gore Tranquility_. After lunch, she surprised Ann with the epic melodies of _Northern Gates_ and _Nordic Hound_.

  
_Bewitched Angel_ , on the other hand, not so much.

  


“Eh,” the Metal Queen said with a casual shrug, aware that it wasn’t for everybody, “is for those who like hear Finns howl. Me is liking them too, so, eh.”

  


_Bloody Lobotomy_ , on the other hand, was something different. “Is Death Metal. Simple. Mental illness. Crazy doctors in asylums. Is just that.”

  


“You don’t sound too impressed,” Ann said with a smirk, noting how casual she spoke about them.

  


“Eh. Is good, but they is trying too hard. Is Metal! Not Pop Music!” she said dismissively.

  


Next, they went into something that made her smile. _Deeds of Eternity_.

  


The Metal Queen began to extrapolate that the band took heavy Nordic legends and ancient poetry from around Europe to turn it into an epic metal symphony that no one had ever hoped to surpass. Ann could tell by the way she tried to explain it in words, as the famous female guitarist Madragora tore through another solo, that she was really into it.

  


She gave Ann another humored smile, “They is liking silly names too much. Madragora is name of root they use and get high.”

  


“Like Red Sand?” Ann asked tentatively.

  


She threw her head back and laughed heartily. “No, silly girl. More poison than drug. Red Sand easier to use. Even then, they use name because it has mythical connections. Is powerful antidote in stories.”

  


Ann couldn’t help but notice that once they got past _Deeds of Eternity_ , Metal Queen started to sigh when she started an album of _Beastial_ _Burial_. While the tunes were loud, incomprehensible, and utterly pointless, she looked positively despondent.

  


“What’s wrong?” Ann couldn’t help but ask.

  


“Oh, is good group. However, has sad day for metal. Guitar man is perfect. He has heart attack, finds Jesus, then leaves group to start Christian Rock band with kids who can’t sing. Is good for his soul, I guess, but still, sad day for metal. And _Beastial Burial_ gets new guitar man and changes to _Sordid Laceration_. Still, is good band, but not the same.”

  


Ann knew she was going to be in trouble, but it was hard for her not to laugh as Metal Queen ended the tale with a wistful sigh.

  


“Kids these days. They no know good metal when they hear it. Metal is serious business!” she said with a mock serious face and the same hand gesture that was shaped as an ‘H’.

  


Ann held onto her sides as tears started to drip from her eyes. She had never laughed so hard before in her life and it started to hurt, but in a good way. With a satisfied smile, the Metal Queen returned to the road ahead as they continued their journey north.

*

As the truck reached Fairbanks, both women were in the middle of another chorus, singing hideously off-tune at the end of another extended session of Queen.

  


~Ohh, you’re my best friend!~ they both sang as they entered the truck stop. When the song ended, they both kept laughing.

  


When the rig finally came to a stop, the Metal Queen said to Ann as she unbuckled and unlocked the door, “I get foods, you clean up.”

  


“Sure,” Ann said as she hopped off the side and onto the ground.

  


She reached the bathroom and was about to enter when she noticed a group of people in getting off a bus. Most of them were young, but the woman that was clearly in charge of the procession caught her eye.  Her skin was about as dark as her own and her hair was as black as her own. She wasn't sure, but this woman was someone she had to talk to. 

  


Tentatively, Ann walked right up to the woman as the last of her group headed into the truck stop and asked, “hello?”

  


The woman turned to her and said, “Hello. Can I help you?”

  


“Um, can you tell me...,” Ann had no idea why she was saying this, however, the words came regardless, “can you tell me who I am?”

  


The woman blinked for a moment, confused at a disheveled teenager with a questions. "Um," she answered after a moment, "do you have family around here?"

 

Ann shook her head. "I left OLA not too long ago. It was bad there. I had nothing." Exasperated, Ann held her arms apart helplessly. "I don't know why I'm asking you this, to be honest. I just saw you and you kind of looked like me and, and-"

 

"Which tribe are you from?" the woman interrupted calmly.

 

"Tribe?" Ann blinked.

 

The woman nodded. "My name's Sasheen. I run the Youth Group for the Tillamook."

 

Immediately, the idea of Ann belonging to a group seemed too good to be true. She became downcast. "I don't know. I have no idea."

 

Sasheen considered her for a moment before she tilted down a bit to see her eye to eye. "If you want, I can give you directions to the Town Hall.  They have a representative from the American Indian Policy Center that can help you figure out which tribe you belong to, maybe."

  
“Can, can they show me where I can go?” Hope gleamed in Ann's eyes again. 

 

Pleased at her eagerness, she nodded. “We'll be passing by on our way back.  If you'd like; you can come with us.”

  


All of a sudden, countless possibilities flooded her mind. Did she have a family she wasn’t aware of? Was she part of a tribe? Did they still exist? Did she still have family that didn’t come from OLA?

  


Her breath came faster and more hurried when she realized that this was where she needed to go. That meant, sadly, that she’d have to part ways with the Metal Queen. She said quickly, “I’ll be right back!”

  


Her heart beating a mile a second, she ran back to see the Metal Queen stepping out of the stop. “Ah! You is ready?” she asked casually.

  


Ann shook her head vigorously. “I’m sorry, but... I have to go. This is my stop. I think I found something. Something I need to do.”

  


The Metal Queen seemed shocked, but then her features softened at the sight of a wayward soul finding her way. She nodded and said with a smile, “Good. Is not hard to be finding me. If get chance, find me on circuit. Is easy.”

  


Ann nodded and then with no warning, reached around and pulled the smaller woman against her and whispered, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  


Beneath, the Metal Queen’s smile grew and she reciprocated the embrace. “Is welcome, girl. Before me forgets.” She pulled out and turned on her new, fancy fangled omni-tool, which had only been on the market for a year, held Ann’s face close to her, they both smiled and she took a picture. She transferred a copy to Ann’s poly-tool and placed some of the food into the rig.

  


With her hands on her hips, the Metal Queen said with confidence, “remember girl.”

  


Ann nodded, “Find Home, find heart, find Soul.”

  


She blinked, then shook her head, “No, silly girl!” She tossed a wrapped hot dog with some condiments inside it. Immediately after, she tossed Ann’s belongings back to her as well. “All things can be eating with mustard! No matter how yucky!”

  


Surprised, and then amused, Ann chuckled and waved good bye to her friend as she slowly pulled away. She looked down to the picture of her and the Metal Queen, smiling at the camera and grinned. She’d find a way. She would find her and thank her again.

  


*

  


Sasheen, true to her word, had dropped her off at the town hall and the office she spoke of. However, her ability to read and write, being as limited as it was, had to get assistance from one of the desk workers.

  


“What’s your name?” the man at the desk said as he adjusted his glasses to fill out the registration forms properly.

  


Ann paused. She wanted to start over, but she couldn’t keep her name. It was the only one she had... but Ann was dead. She mentally scolded herself for not thinking this out as much as she thought she did.

  


Immediately, she blurted out the first name that came to mind, “Nora Shepard.” As the man continued to write, Ann realized the implications of what she had just done. She had stolen her best friend’s name and now her identity.

  


At the same time, though, she figured it was a way that Nora was able to get out of OLA and into the new life she had promised her. She clenched her bag with the weakened Red Sand dose inside and reaffirmed her word to Nora again, that she’d make good on her promise.

  


*

  


Ann was grown again. She was tall. She could feel her strength growing by the minute.

  


However, she was not alone. In front of her, the two versions of herself stared back. However, they started to develop more animal-like features.

  


The bloodied, living, scarred in red version of herself snarled at her and at the pristine, pure, and dead version of herself as if she were a feral animal. The latter regarded the former with disdain and turned back to Ann with the same cold patience of a beast lying in wait.

  


She could tell they both wanted something from her. And whatever it is they wanted, it was absolute. They wanted all of her. The desire to consume her like before was not there like it was before.

  


Instead, it was like a demand for partnership. Either one of them becoming a guide for her. They both appealed to her, instead of forcing themselves.

  


It was her choice to make, surprisingly. However, she was unsure which one to choose. One was living, but defiled. The other pristine, but dead.

  


So conflicted Ann was at her choice, she slowly fell asleep as they both stood there waiting for her.

  
They would always wait for her.

 

*

 

Ann, now Nora, blinked several times as the light from the window from the cabin where she currently resided in. The local Athabascan tribe had taken her in while the local government would run inquiries to tribes along the coast to determine which one she came from. Until then, she had a home.


	10. Chapter 10

**2173**

  


With a bored sigh, ‘Nora Shepard’ turned around and saw the flashing lights of the police. They were pretty far behind her, but it seemed to appear they took their sweet time before they figured out she as going well beyond the speed limit. She snorted and accelerated even more, weaving through cars, semis, and buses with ease on her speed bike. When the cop was momentarily blinded by a bus, she turned off the lights on her bike, and quickly weaved in front of the bus, then off into a ramp. True to form, the police missed her completely as she made a sharp right and out of sight.

  


“Idiot,” she mumbled when the sound of the cop eventually faded into nothing. She turned the lights on and made her way back to the reservation. The blood tests she had taken a long time ago had determined her to be part Native American and part Hawaiian. That had led her to find the tribes in the southwestern states . While it took her back in the general direction of OLA, it was still far enough that she didn’t need to worry about it.

  


Under several government acts, members of the Tipai indian tribe had expanded their lands to the point where they didn’t require handouts anymore and were more than capable of living interdependantly with modern society. They were also close with the local Navajo tribe for protection from the occasional radical hate groups that would spring up from time to time.

  


It had been a year since she moved down from Fairbanks to Phoenix. With her remedial education and training complete, she was free to go about anywhere as she wished as a citizen of the United North American States.

  


As Nora Shepard.

  


The thought still bothered her. While with every passing day, the thought that she was no longer Ann, but Nora Shepard, seemed to be more acceptable. Ann was just a street punk from OLA. Nora Shepard was a good person that thought about others before herself. She was also smart.

  


That wasn’t to say that Ann had remained as ignorant and violent as she used to be. While the violent and malicious edge she had developed as a youth was still there, it wasn’t as blunt as it used to be. If there was someone she didn’t like, she’d find ways to end them without anyone knowing about it. It was more amusing to her to see people flail about as their security fell apart around them, unaware that it was Ann, no, Nora, who had ended them.

  


However, outing Red Sand and Halex dealers to the police was losing its charm. Nora was getting restless. As the wind beat against her helmet, the rain droplets on her visor told her it was going to rain again. Great. Wasn’t Arizona supposed to be a desert? Did they have a Weather Service now?

  


Not pleased with the prospect of her bike getting soaked she picked up speed, thinking about getting back on the highway when she realized she wasn’t far from Max’s house. Max Van Patten, her boyfriend of four months.

  


When they met, they were at a factory where she had applied for work. However, there was nothing for her there, but she did, however, meet a nice guy that made her smile. He was a few years older than her, a bit lanky, not as tall as her, but he had guts. He was a yapping dog that had the courage to stand against a lion. The first few months of their relationship had been interesting.

  


Turned out the son of the owner of a factory he had been working in had been doing dirty. The punk was a control freak and developed some delusion that he was capable of controlling anyone he wanted in this part of the city. Too bad she, with Max’s help, lead the police to evidence of his dirty work and now with him behind bars, the workers there actually seemed chipper whenever she came to visit him during lunch breaks.

  


However, perhaps it was her, but for some reason, her restlessness had seeped into and begun to mess with her feelings for Max. He was a nice guy, soft enough in all the right places, but hard where it needed to be.

  


Perhaps it was ennui. Maybe she was bored. But she could not find a reason why she wanted to keep seeing him. Perhaps part of her was afraid that he was eventually going to want to get serious. Afraid of intimacy and marriage? Perhaps. Either way, whatever intense feelings she had when they were an item before had long cooled.

  


That was why she wanted to speak with him tonight. It wasn’t the only reason. She knew he was planning on taking his well-worn van and travel the eastern states. She couldn’t blame him. There was only so much one could do in the deserts of Arizona.

  


When the rain started to come down harder, she pulled up in the driveway of Max’s quaint and humble home. Homes like these were a dime a dozen, easy to build, required little maintenance and were large enough for small families to grow up in. She had heard they were also prototypes for prefabs that people in the off-world colonies used to live in on newly settled worlds.

  


She wondered what kind of crazy person would want something so small in light of newer and better units. But it wasn’t her place to judge as she parked her bike in the alcove of Max’s driveway so her bike wouldn’t get soaked.

  


She walked up to the door and knocked on it with her fist quickly.

  


“Hey, Max! It’s Nora! It’s pouring out here!”

  


A moment passed and then the door opened, she quickly stepped in and pulled off her helmet. Her hair had gotten longer, but it was no longer dingy or dirty and she was quite proud of how well it looked when it shimmered in the sun. An additional touch was the single white and red eagle feather she kept in a braid over her right ear.

  


“Hey, Nora,” Max said with a smile as he walked up to her, hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  


“Hey, Max,” she replied calmly. The next several minutes were going to be tense. She was sure of it. “You almost done packing? Put in your two weeks and all that?”

  


He nodded and adjusted his denim jacket. He looked just as tense as she did. They both knew what was going to happen. They were both mature enough to read the writing on the walls and understood that this was for the best, even though neither of them liked it.

  


“Nora, I’m sorry, I-” he started before she held up a hand.

  


“No, Max. We both let it happen,” she said curtly. “Maybe we just couldn’t think further than the moment or we used it up too fast. I don’t know. It’s good that you’re leaving. Not sure if you ever plan on coming back, but I don’t know if I’ll be here if you ever do.”

  


It was never meant to be and it hurt them both for some reason.

  


“Whatever you do, Nora, be the best at it, ok?” he said with a sad smile.

  


“Same to you, Max,” she replied before she walked forward and held him close. He reciprocated the embrace and leaned his head against her shoulder.

  


“Don’t think the rain’s going to let up any time soon. Want to spend the night?” he asked quietly. It was the last gasp of their affection for each other. Under normal circumstances, she would have been happy to do so.

  


It was tempting. One more night. What could it hurt? However, she shook her head. There were too many ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’ for her liking. She couldn’t live a life like that. Better to end it now than let a few regrets linger on in places they weren’t supposed to.

  


Unlike many of their peers, their intimacy had never progressed passed kissing. Nora would never admit it, but the idea of opening herself up and being so vulnerable terrified her. What would happen if he had learned her deepest and darkest secrets? She quickly squashed the internal battle she had and whispered, “Good bye, Max. Thank you, and good luck.”

  


As she walked towards the door to open it, he nodded once and said, “You too, Nora.”

  


It didn’t matter how soaked Nora was when she returned to the reservation. The first thing she did as soon as her bike was covered and her door locked was throwing herself on her bed in heaving sobs. It didn’t matter how wet her sheets became.

  


*

  


A few days later, Nora began to wonder if she could have just bit the bullet and gone with Max. Sure, the tribe was good to her; they showed her love, the ways of the Great Spirit, and the legacy of her people. However, her restless nature was starting to get in the way again.

  


In her hand, she carried several letters a few of her fellow tribesmen had requested that she take into the post office. While they were self-sustaining, they needed, on occasion, to go into town and recover packages, as mail service was still shoddy for the reservation. Omni-tools in this part of the country were sparse and most preferred the solid feeling of letters and packages, anyway.

  


After depositing the letters where they were to go, she went over to their post box and opened it, expecting nothing. Very rarely did they get some kind of correspondence via mail. However, to Nora’s surprise, there was as single letter inside. When she pulled it out, her eyes widened when she read that it was addressed directly to her!

  


She looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching her, pocketed the letter, walked as casually as she could back to her bike, and took off. Her mind reeled at the possibility that someone had found her out. Who knew she lived here? The government had no reason to contact her.

  


Once far enough from the post office, she pulled into an empty alley, pulled out the letter and opened it as fast as she could. She looked over it quickly with her back to the wall.

  


_To: Nora Shepard_

_From: Simon Lifton, Life Care, LLC._

  


_Speaking on behalf of the estate of the late Francis Christopher, I would like to speak with you concerning the remnants of his property. If possible, please contact me at-_

  


She looked over the latter a few more times. Father Christopher? What could it mean? She hadn’t the slightest idea what he would do. Immediately, she went to a comm near a gas station and called the number on the letter. Her poly-tool was still working, but it still didn’t have extranet access.

  


“Hello, this is Life Care, how may I help you?” the secretary on the other end asked.

  


“Um, yes. My name is Nora Shepard. I just received a letter from you guys.”

  


“Oh, yes! Just a moment, please.” With that, the secretary had put her on hold.

  


After a brief silence, a new voice, a man’s, came on the line, “Ms. Shepard?”

  


“Yes, that’s me.”

  


“Now, you were in the care of one of my clients, Father Francis Christopher? In the Old Los Angeles region?”

  


“Yes. I, um, I moved out of OLA to Arizona a few years ago. I knew Father Christopher.”

  


“Well, it turns out that he was putting aside some money for treatment for your condition, however, with his untimely passing, it left the money in limbo. However, he made sure that if anything were to happen to him, he wrote in his will that the money would be sent to you.”

  


Nora paused. “What?”

  


“I know. Everyone in my office had to take a day to mourn for him. He was more than just a volunteer in OLA. He was one of a kind that made you believe in people.”

  


“…I see.”

  


“With that said, he wasn’t married and had no family to speak of. So, in his will, you were named is sole recipient of the remains of his estate. And so, with your permission, I’ll be sending the money he meant for you in his will within the next few days.”

  


“I, uh, ok.”

  


“Thank you very much, Ms. Shepard. I’ll keep in touch.”

  


Nora was stunned to silence. When she turned off the comm, she then leaned her forearm against the booth and put her head against it. What had she gotten herself into? How could she tell the truth now? Not only did she steal Nora’s name, but money that was meant for her treatment?!

  


What kind of monster had she become?


	11. Chapter 11

Two hundred thousand credits. That’s more than she’d ever make in a lifetime. And it was all hers. It was supposed to go to Nora.

  


She held the bundle of credit chits in her hand. Each one holding twenty-five thousand each in each one. She couldn’t verbalize it, but it felt as though the chits weighed as though each credit was a pound of blood. What could she do with this? Worse than that, if word got around that she had this kind of money, there’d be types who’d want to take it from her.

  


She frowned at the thought as she put the chits back in her bag. Even if she didn’t get this money on the up and up, she had no intention of allowing anyone taking anything that was hers. She had to find a way to keep this money hers whenever she needed it. She needed to find ways to allow herself access to the money whenever she needed it.

  


She also needed to think of what she could do with this money. She had lived frugally for most of her life and to suddenly have an influx of money threw it off kilter. It seemed that the only recourse she had was to make sure this money wasn’t ‘hers’.

  


It took her several trips between work and visits to the library to find out exactly which banks would be the most reliable to deposit the money in. In addition, the possible names she’d keep in order to keep her identity a secret. She’d keep a small amount for herself, but keep the rest hidden.

  


Soon enough she was on the line with a representative from Lombard Odier, a private Swiss bank that had been in business since 1796, as per the advertisement said.

  


“Hello, thank you for doing business with Lombard Odier,” the woman on the other line said mechcanically, “what can I do for you today?”

  


Her script in front of her and rehearsed, she replied, “Yes, I’d like to open a private account.”

  


“Very well,” the woman said before the sound of keystrokes were heard, “and under what name shall this account be under?”

  


  
“Margret Zelle,” she said. She had chosen this identity for this bank, and had several others for other banks. She had memorized them all and would make sure that she, and only she, would have access to this money.

  


Melinda Norwood.

  


Britney Tott.

  


Stephanie Hohenloe.

  


Elizabeth Bentley.

  


Christina Skarborough.

  


Nancy Wake.

  


All names she had used. All covers for her. All false identities. All new identities if worse came to worse.

  
With a piece of paper with all the names and passwords for each identity in front of her, she set about to remember each one as she left the library.

  


It was the first step to ensure her safety. However, she felt an increasing amount of unease, the more she thought about it. She was becoming a shadow of whom she wanted to be. For all she knew, she was, as Paco, the Medicine Man of her tribe had told her once, ‘feeding the wolf’. The wolf that fed on secrets, lies, hate, violence, and all the vices which led men astray.

  


No. She’d make it work. She’d find a way to turn this around. And once all was said and done, she’d come clean. She’d make it right, just like she promised Nora all those years ago.

  


Just... not now.

  


*

  


“Paco... I think I need to go,” she said as she sat alongside the medicine man of the tribe. In front of them both, several men, who had donned traditional ceremonial clothes danced in time with chants to celebrate Navajo-Sing; the traditional celebration of thanksgiving for the harvest.

  


He paused for a moment and then looked to her. He was a patient man. He always seemed to have some colloquialism that would irritate her initially, and would later, begrudgingly, admit that he was right.

  


“If it is what you think is best, then do so, Nora,” he says with an aged and graveled voice, marked by many years of speaking on behalf of his people and culture. While not wealthy, he was never in need and he made sure that everyone in the tribes were capable of contributing and sustaining themselves and others.

  


She was suddenly flustered and frustrated. He was supposed to tell her no, that she had responsibilities here and the myriad of other reasons parents were supposed to use to hold their children down.

  


“Isn’t there some reason why I should stay? I mean, for the first time in my life, I feel like I actually belong somewhere. Like I’m not a piece of trash people ignore. And you’re letting me go just like that?”

  


Paco smiled with his usual patience and kindness. “The Great Spirit guided you here. And should you ever wander, the Great Spirit can always guide you back. You heard his voice once in your heart and I believe that should the need arise, you’ll hear it again.”

  


Nora’s shoulders slumped as she mumbled, “why do you have to make this easier than it should?”

  


His smile then had a wry element to it. “Because you’re making it harder than it needs to be.”

  


She laughed bitterly. “Life’s not easy when you’re stupid.”

  


The smile left Paco’s face as he admonished, “I rarely order you to do anything, Nora. You know that. However, I will not stand by and allow you to tear yourself down by feeding the wolf.”

  


She stopped, realizing her error. Even though she towered over him by a good two feet, her head bent down in shame and she mumbled, “I’m sorry, Paco.”

  


He gingerly wrapped his arm around her waist as though she were his own granddaughter and replied, “You have always been a wild spirit, Nora. Perhaps this will be good for you. And if you heed the wisdom of your guide, you won’t be led astray.”

  


Her ‘spirit guide’, as Paco’s words, had underwhelmed her when she saw it in a vision. It was a squirrel. She had hoped it was something a bit more majestic like an eagle or a bear. However, she humored the older man and kept its identity a secret. However, that still didn’t deter her from thinking that she could have done a lot better than a rodent.

  


“Yes, Paco.”

  


“And I mean it, this time,” he admonished again. He knew Nora’s early life had left her somewhat skeptical, however, after all she had seen, maybe she was almost willing to admit that he was right… almost.

  


*

  


A week later, Nora found herself in Kahalui. Normally, she considered herself a decent planner. However, throughout all of this, aside from learning first-hand about the other half of her heritage, she had no other plan.

  


It was not a total loss, however. Not long after she set foot on the Honolulu, did she come across a few tourist traps with hula classes. The concept of dancing never really occurred to her. She had attended a few ‘concerts’ back in the day where a good portion of the people moshed to the point of injury, but actual dancing was something different.

  


With some of the money she had kept to herself, she had rented a room with a native instructor for the two months she would stay.

  


“Now, hold your right arm up a moment before you bring it down in front of you with the other one. Then hold both hands with palms facing outward,” Elizabeth Kaʻahumanu, the elderly instructor, said.

  


Nora, attempting to follow through on the older woman’s instructions, did as much. Her teacher had told her to take it slow so she could do it right. However, the music that her teacher played for her controlled her movements instead of her teacher’s words.

  


When the music stopped, Nora froze in fright at Elizabeth’s disapproving gaze.

  


“Nora, when you asked me to teach you this, you said you would follow me. However, I am finding that difficult when you seem more determined to do it yourself,” her voice wasn’t harsh in the least. It reminded her of Nora, Father Christopher, Paco, and the Metal Queen.

  


She looked down in shame and mumbled an apology. It seemed to be a habit that was just a bit too hard to break for her. However, she quickly gathered her thoughts and said, “I think, I was just so used to doing things on my own. I never had much of a chance to follow anyone. I had a friend once, and she meant the world to me, and we were planning on leaving the place where we lived. But she died before that was able to happen. I never felt more alone that I did after that and you get used to it. Even among a group that I considered family, I never opened up much.”

  


Elizabeth smiled warmly, put her ukulele down, walked over to Nora and took her hand gently. “Child, I doubt your friend has left you. If your friend is the kind that you’ve told me she was, then she is watching over you and guarding you. Will you trust me on this?”

  


The thought of the real Nora watching over her seemed far too good to be true. How could the real Nora want to do anything for her after all she’d done? Her self-deprecation was interrupted when Elizabeth turned around, returned to her seat, and started a different song on her ukulele.

  


It was one of the first songs she had learned from this woman. So in an almost child-like manner, she padded over in front of Elizabeth and sat down and remained enchanted as Elizabeth told the story of a man who sought the wisdom of a kahuna to find his love after she was spirited away by the winds.

  


“Now, Nora. Will you put your trust in me, as the man did to the wisdom of the kahuna?” she asked gently as the song ended.

  


She nodded. If she needed to be patient, she would. For the first time in her life, she found something she considered beautiful. She would take this and learn and perhaps her wild spirit, as Paco said, would find its peace.

  


“Shall we try it from the beginning?” Elizabeth asked with a smile.

  


She nodded eagerly, got to her feet and back to the center of the room.

  


*

  


Nora awoke early. Without waking Elizabeth, she snuck out of the house, and ran to one of the less used beaches of the island. With a gathering of palm trees that separated the beach from the rest of the town, she ran to the edge and watched the sun begin to break through the horizon.

  


She dug into the pockets of her cargo pants and pulled out a small package. Because it was considered part of her culture there was no law against its contents. For that, she was grateful as she sat cross-legged in the sand and opened the container to show several pieces of peyote.

  


She had obtained them, with permission from Paco, in attempts to make the dreams she had been seeing since she was a child appear. Perhaps, then, she’d be able to make some sort of sense. Since whatever the other version of herself were. Maybe she’d have a better idea of what it was, now that she was no longer a child.

  


However, the Medicine Man had warned her that while there was a chance she would see more of her visions, there was no guarantee that they’d be any clearer. It could be anything; the past, the future, or the present. It could be nothing at all.

  


Regardless of the risk, Nora wanted to see more. She had to find out what it meant, if it meant anything.

  


She took a deep breath and then ate one of the pieces. The doses were small enough, precut by Paco, that she would be in no danger, as he was wiser about these things than she was. While in her youth, she tried to assume she knew a lot of things, the ways of the Great Spirit were not one of them. She left that to the people who actually knew.

  


She took another breath, closed her eyes and listened to the ebb and flow of the waves pushing against the shore. She wasn’t sure when it was to kick in, however, she had to remind herself to be patient if this was to work.

  


Minutes crept by slower than she liked. In addition, the sun was beginning to reach higher in the sky. What seemed like hours passed for her when she wondered if there was to be anything here. With a weary sigh, she decided nothing was going to happen and figured it best to head back to the house.

  


However, when she opened her eyes, she was not in Hawaii anymore. Wherever it was, it was definitely not Hawaii. The ocean was oily and smelled like rubber. She turned to see the trees had become fleshy and were bleeding milk.

  


The clouds above her had a footrace, leaving bits and pieces of themselves along the way for the sun to eat. The sun itself had to take a break from all of the cloud to cloud transactions of daily shares with clocks.

  


When she stood up, her feet had become skeletal for a moment before regaining their flesh again. And as she walked backwards in time towards home, she felt she had to stop along the side of the road and wait for the wind to pick her up. She had asked it to make sure to bring its ID card so they could cross the border into the forest. The last time they did it, the trees had to toss them out for vagrancy.

  


Then, she remembered the pants. The pants were the answer! She sang the praises of pants! How else could she hide herself from the seagulls that wanted to eat her? Except, there was one of them that was very gentlemanly and treated her like a friend and not a fish.

  


Nora gasped as she looked up to see the sun had reached its apex faster than she was aware. She looked around frantically and got to her feet. She almost lost her balance as she held onto a palm tree, trying to get her equilibrium back.

  


What the hell did she see!? And Paco did this on a regular basis?! She then fell forward on her hands and knees and threw up.


	12. Chapter 12

_Dear Paco;_

  


_Thank you so much for accepting me. Thank you for being patient when I was being a punk. I told you once that I’m here because of a debt I owe to a friend that helped me get out of OLA. Well, I finally figured out how I can repay that debt. I’m going to enlist in the Systems Alliance._

  


_I know. I know. It could be a big mistake, but I really do think that it may be just the thing I need to calm my ‘wild spirit’. I thought about this long and hard. I mean, I’m ok for money, I don’t have any real plans, and I figure that serving in the military might do me some good. I know. Strange that a teenager would actually come to that conclusion themselves. I’ll be sure and keep in touch._

  


_Signed;_

_Nora_

  


_P.S. Keep the peyote. I was sick for days after using that! Ugh!_

  


*

  


Nora landed face first into the ground. Lucky for her, it was soft, as the rain from last night had turned the dirt into mud. She puffed a brown bubble from her mouth and then pushed herself up to her feet again.   
  
It was times like this she was glad that her head had no hair, as there were so many things her normally long black mane would have caught on. Not to mention how insufferably hot Macapa, Brazil was at this time of year.

  


The heavy gear on her back wore her down. However, she was determined to finish this. She was tough, sure, however, the past few years without fighting on daily basis had made her a bit softer than she’d like.

  


Thankfully, her musculature had improved quickly. She had gotten lithe and strong once more. However, being sore on a constant and daily basis removed any elation she felt.

  


As she was taller than most of the other recruits, she quickly caught up with the other recruit that had passed her as she lay face down on the ground. The man, some blueblood she only knew as Hershel, noticed her acceleration and pushed himself harder to keep his lead. Accepting his challenge, she pushed herself even harder. Sure, he had the genes that enabled his family to be tops in the military for several generations, she had the environment that had made her stronger.

  


As they both came up on the finish line, she noted with some pride that he had tried to push himself too much to maintain his lead, as a few meters before the line, she had taken the lead. With relief, she collapsed on her back and smirked at the scowling Hershel.

  


“Guess...” Nora wheezed, “money only gets you... so far, eh, Precious?”

  


He was about to snap back when the drill sergeant barked out another string of profanities for them to get in line. With enough time to catch her breath, she scrambled to her feet to join the other recruits. As the man continued his diatribe about how they were all weak, bleeding maggots, Nora could feel Hershel’s glare at her, even though he was staring straight ahead.

  


“-and Sun Tzu knows a lot more about fighting you do, you dick-headed, short-sighted pockets of pus!” the man snarled in the face of another fresh recruit.

  


Neither one dared talk. The drill sergeant, as psychologically unstable as some believed, had sharp ears and special punishments for recruits that enjoyed sniping each other. For the time being, they remained silent and would continue their conflict back at the barracks or the mess hall.

  


“-and when he got all the animals on the boat, he beat them all into hamburger meat, which is what I will do to ANYONE who thinks that-”

  


_Think you can get away with anything, don’t you, Shepard?_ She could feel Hershel sneer, though he said nothing.

  


_Just as much as you can, only I don’t need daddy’s money or influence to get where I need to._ She’d respond.

  


_Perhaps someone needs to put you in your place, wo-_ the exchange was interrupted when the drill sergeant appeared in front of them both.

  


“-from that day forward, anytime a bunch of shit-spewing beasts are together in one place, it’s called a zoo! Do you understand that, cadets!?”

  


“Sir! Yes, sir!” they all announced in unison.

  


“Diiismissed!”

  


Quickly, the line of recruits broke and they all went back to the showers and, subsequently, dinner. All the while, Nora and Hershel’s gaze, filled with loathing and contempt, never broke.

  


*

  


In between sessions, there was little for Nora to do, aside from sending letters to Paco. However, with downtime, came a specific activity she had discovered thanks to a rather chatty recruit.

  


Amelia, a five-foot-nothing brunette with the physique of a washboard, had heard whispers from an elder sister of hers about this place. Curious, Nora took her up on that offer and the smaller woman only smiled mischievously whenever she asked what exactly it was. After evening practice, she had dragged Nora with her to what appeared to be a passageway from one of the janitor’s closets.

  


Soon enough, they reached a marker when Amelia rubbed her hands together, held her index finger to indicate complete silence, and walked to a specifically marked place on the wall.

  


She removed a pair of stoppers from the wall and pointed to the top one for Nora. Curious, she leaned over to peek through the whole, as Amelia tried in vain to keep her excitement in check.

  


What greeted her eyes was the sight of nothing less than heavenly to some girls... and some guys.

  


It was a peep hole into the men’s showers. A senior’s group, almost ready to ship out, usually showered at this time, she learned. She looked down to see Amelia grinning like a boy-crazy teenager. Granted, she had just turned twenty the month before, however, she seemed to refuse to grow up.

  


“It’s so beautiful,” Amelia whispered with a sniff. Nora was sure her tongue was going to be rolled out on the floor at this rate.

  


While her relationship with Max had spoiled her need for closeness with others, she could always appreciate the finer points of the male physique when they took care of themselves. Every time the senior recruits were doing exercises, Amelia would sigh and nearly swoon. She’d then tell Nora that she’d be back in her bunk when practice was over.

  


While Nora didn’t consider herself a social butterfly, she did enjoy Amelia’s company. When she wasn’t squealing about boys, she often went on about alien cultures she learned about from alien publications. She was a wide-eyed idealist that wanted to see the galaxy and how vast it was. Meet new alien life. Perhaps discover new, or ancient, civilizations. To, as she would put it by quoting an old televid, boldly go where no one went before. People would often tease her about the sparkles in her eyes, but she didn’t care.

  


While she was from humble circumstances like herself, she still had a home and a family waiting for her. Whenever Amelia tried to ask about her family, not aware of what she had experienced, she’d deflect it. The brunette was never malicious, but perhaps a bit untactful. However, Nora didn’t hold it against her.

  


“Think we should get going? Someone might be looking for us,” Nora whispered.

  


“Oh, come on, Nora. Where’s your sense of adventure? We still got time.” she whispered back.

  


“Well...” Nora replied quietly, then took another look back in the peep hole.

  


“That’s the spirit!” Amelia said with a smirk and went back to her peep hole.

  


A few more minutes later, Nora once again prodded the spritely Amelia into heading back, since most of the seniors were already done and there was nothing left. Reluctantly, she agreed.

  


“Oh, fine. Spoilsport,” Amelia mumbled and crawled her way back to the closet.

  


She smiled as Amelia scurried away and was about to follow when she noticed movement in the showers again. It was strange, since most of the seniors were out already. She went back to the hole and her eyes grew wide at what she saw.

  


It was Hersel. Blonde and blue eyed, as always. Not to mention pristine. However, that was not what gave her pause. He was speaking to another senior in hushed tones. Whoever set up this meeting didn’t think that they’d be watched.

  


From the pockets of his fatigues, he pulled out a plastic package and handed it off to the senior. Immediately, she knew the contents of the package.

  
Red Sand.

  


She always had a feeling Hershel was a hedonistic little bastard, hiding behind his family name, but this only solidified it. Judging by the credit chit that got exchanged, she had a feeling that not a small amount was on it. It was hard to tell if Hershel was merely peddling the stuff or if he was snorting it himself. Perhaps both. Sanders like that were common back in OLA. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way. Poor little rich kid, getting ahead with his family, is doing this himself to show that he doesn’t want his whole life to be lived for him. Too bad if his Red Sand addiction didn’t do him in, then other dealers would.

  


As she headed back to catch up with Amelia, it was difficult to not think of a way to use this against him. And she would use this against him. In the absence of the real Nora, she had learned how to read people. Despite his potential loathing of his family name, he certainly didn’t seem the type to not use it to get ahead.

  


However, she had taken a few minutes to find out that he was the son of a senator in the Alliance parliament and an influential one. He had political pull. If that was the case, any sort of public attempt on Hershel would end up going bad for her. No. She’d have to do this carefully. He’s trying to be discreet. She’d have to find a way to find his stashes and make it look like he got sloppy. Once the heads of the academy found out, he’d be kicked out faster than a junkie coming down like a monkey.

  


As she caught up with Amelia to head back to afternoon exercises. She figured had to take notes on his locations, probably places his supplies would be, and, most importantly, how to hide her involvement. She would also have to act fast. She had been here two weeks, and with only four more left, she felt as though she were juggling knives.

  


She could do it, though. She didn’t come this far to be pushed down by some silver-spoon fed nepotist.

  


*

  


It all went without a hitch. Hershel was kicked out of the academy. The Red Sand ring was exposed and all involved severely punished. And most importantly, she had not shown her involvement at all. No one had seen her plant some of Hershel’s ‘product’ in just the right place for the academy authorities to find.

  


With no ceremony, he and several others were escorted out of the academy, to the surprise of the rest of the recruits when word got around. Of course the news feeds talked about the scandal that rocked the foundations of the alliance military, according to some pundits, however, it didn’t last long.

  


That evening, on her bunk, Nora looked to the ceiling and found herself smirking. She remembered how brutish and blunt her approach was to dealing with her problems. This, on the other hand, was far more satisfying. Sure, she didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing that asshole realize that she had beaten him, but it was a small price to pay. Yes, it was petty. It was selfish, but damned she’d be if she didn’t get some satisfaction from taking him down.

  


She looked to her side and noticed Amelia sleeping. Her smile slowly vanished when she remembered that Amelia’s request to join the other potential candidates to be liaisons for the Alliance to other alien species was accepted. She was quite happy. And Nora was genuinely glad for her. She’d get to see alien species, as she wanted, and go out into the greater galactic community, as it was called. She was a good kid and deserved to see the whole of the galaxy. She had a feeling Amelia would leave the galaxy a slightly better place than she would.

  
it was a pity that once boot camp was over, they’d never see each other again. Perhaps it was better that way. She had not once said a thing to Amelia about her past. She always kept it out of sight and easily out of mind. Every question deflected. All inquiries denied. Her past was dead and gone. She was Nora Shepard.

  


The same Nora Shepard that had ruined the potential military career of Hershal Boreman. Oh well, he still had daddy to help him start over.

  
She had no one. She wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone. She had learned where and when to trust people, but to actually open herself up to others?

  
The idea was ludicrous.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written back in 2012. Thought I'd bring it back.


End file.
